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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27009298">The Phantom Dragon Book 2: The Honest Price</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/reallySolidSnake/pseuds/reallySolidSnake'>reallySolidSnake</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Phantom Dragon [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Persona 5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 01:46:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>54,477</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27009298</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/reallySolidSnake/pseuds/reallySolidSnake</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Kamurocho, the city of pleasure and decadence, has been rocked to its core in the wake of the Kamoshida incident. Rumors of a hero in the underworld are breaking out into civilian life, and all have been affected by the actions of a mysterious young yakuza. Akira Kurusu will be united with new allies and face down new foes as the underworld prepares for war. Family is everything.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kurusu Akira/Takamaki Ann</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Phantom Dragon [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1971256</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>31</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1: It Would Be a Simple Case</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>The Phantom Dragon 2:</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>The Honest Price</strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>The city of pleasure and dreams has silently reached a tipping point.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>There are few in the city left untouched by the actions of a mysterious young hero.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Though in the dark corners of what normal, honorable people call the “underworld”, such heroic actions rarely go unpunished…</strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>Chapter 1</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>It Would (Not) Be a Simple Case</strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>Kamurocho Police Station – Division Four: Organized Crime</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>September 10<sup>th</sup>, 1988</strong>
</p><p>               The beautiful woman leaned over the desk with a hot scowl, jaw clenched and arms involuntarily flexing.  Her long, smoky white hair fell in front of her face, obscuring the document that lay in front of her – the subject of her most recent ire. </p><p>               “Ma’am?” said the police officer behind her.  “Are you alright?”</p><p>               “Of course, I’m <em>not</em>,” she spat back with venom in her voice.  “You know what’s in the file too, don’t you?  Then you also know just how insulting this is.”</p><p>               “Nijima-san,” said the officer, a new prospect by the name of Kenjiro, “I don’t think this is what it looks like.”</p><p>               “Then what <em>exactly </em>would you say it looks like?” she turned around to face him, her anger as obvious on her face as graffiti on a chapel door.</p><p>               Kenjiro, a young man with strong male features contrasting a softer and mostly unthreatening voice, looked her in the eye neutrally.  His hair was dark and short, completely unremarkable.  His eyes had a more remarkable tinge of blue to their darkness.  All together, he seemed like an unassuming everyman, though it was his softer mannerisms that made him an adept negotiator in touchy situations.  “It looks like a simple reallocation of assets to me, Ma’am.  I do not believe this is some sort of insult to your prestige.”</p><p>               “Oh, shut it, Kenjiro,” Nijima waved at him dismissively.  “I know we’re always tied down with red tape, but it doesn’t cover your mouth in private conversation.”</p><p>               “I’m simply answering your question, Nijima-san.”</p><p>               She attempted to fire something back, but her logical mind deemed it unnecessary, to put it lightly.  Instead, she just shook her head, placing her hands on her hips.  “I apologize, Kenjiro.  This isn’t your fault.”</p><p>               “I appreciate it, Ma’am,” Kenjiro nodded.  “I’ll give you your peace, just call if you need anything,” he bowed his head to her quickly. </p><p>               “I will, thank you.”  Kenjiro took his leave, and now she was alone with the damn file.</p><p>               Her name was Sae Nijima, and she was in some serious shit.</p><p>               Having joined the police force fully at the young age of twenty, Sae had spent her whole adult life as an enforcer of justice in the low-threat streets of her hometown of Shibuya, before being moved to the hardened streets of Kamurocho to pursue a mystery involving none other than an old yakuza on the run from the law.  Money laundering, violent and sexual assault, the usual works for someone of his kind.  Having served both in the court room and on the streets, Sae Nijima quickly became famous among the Tokyo precincts, both for her fine feminine features and iron will to uphold the law.  And it was this fame that got her this new case. </p><p>               In one week, the culprit was found out, thanks to her efforts.  Her reward: a promotion in the investigative branches, a cost-free transition to Kamurocho, and a look behind the curtain of red tape she was hitherto unaware of.</p><p>               Sae was known both for her encyclopedic knowledge of the law systems, and an unshakable will to seek out truth and justice that drove her to go above and beyond as if it were second nature.  There were many in the force who sought out positions alongside her knowing that when a case comes around, she would likely do the work for them even when the responsibility falls no where near her own.  And she was entirely aware of all these interpretations of herself.</p><p>               This left her all the more infuriatingly puzzled as to the nature of the file in front of her, which explained that she was denied further investigation of the Kamoshida murder two weeks earlier.</p><p>               August 28<sup>th</sup>, it was, when the four young women were found by the police, wandering the streets of Kamurocho late at night, accompanied by men of the Families.  With little in the way of conflict, or hardly another word, the girls were taken into protective custody and escorted to the station as Sae was wrapping up her work for the night.  However, it would be another four hours of questioning and cross-examination before she was able to go home and sleep for three hours. </p><p>               Following their divulgence of information, the investigation into Suguru Kamoshida was underway, helmed by Sae Nijima herself.  For nearly two weeks, they investigated the crime scene, followed leads and evidence to secure more information, sought out any connections the man may have had to apprehend anyone continuing his vile service.</p><p>               And now she was cut off cold turkey.</p><p>               The reasons provided were slim, scant and entirely comprised of legislative, flowery prose that had could have easily been copied from a dozen other letters that passed by the commissioner’s desk.  “Your efforts will be reallocated elsewhere,” it read.  “We thank you for your exemplary work thus far on the assignment; we would not have progressed nearly this far without your skills.”  Sae had half a mind to toss it out the window and let the wind carry the file away.  She knew in her logical mind that there was nothing she could do to change this outcome, but that did not stop her from storming out of her office and to the commissioner’s office.</p><p>               She passed by many of her coworkers as she strutted down the halls, head held high and gaze lowered.  No one interrupted her, as they could see the fiery aura of determination she gave off.  Sae almost burst through the old oak door that separated her from her boss but stopped herself just before she attempted it.  Instead, she rapped her knuckles on the door sharply.</p><p>               “Come in,” came a rough and scratchy male voice.</p><p>               Sae breathed deeply, making herself at least appear calm, and opened the door.  Before her was Commissioner Seishiro Munakata, sitting at his mahogany desk and calmly drinking steaming tea.  Even sitting down, it was evident he was a tall man, though withered with his advancing age.  His face bore wrinkles, thick glasses resting on his long nose covered his eyes, and his neck was reduced to a permanent slouch.  However, he still commanded seemingly unending respect among any precinct in Tokyo thanks to his legendary crusades against organized crime.</p><p>               And now he had near limitless power when it came to delegating such cases.</p><p>               “Nijima-san,” he addressed her casually without looking at her, “I expected you to come by around this time, though admittedly hoped you would simply take the hint.”</p><p>               “I apologize, sir, but I believe I am due greater clarity on the subject than I’ve been provided.”</p><p>               “You are ‘due’, you say?” Murakata asked coldly, though Sae was unmoved.  They finally made eye contact as Sae stepped in front of him, and Murakata looked her up and down like a host at a beauty pageant – feigning interest, though obviously wishing he was somewhere else.  “This is a bold claim, Nijima, even for you.”</p><p>               “Sir, this was my case from the beginning.  Even if I am to be reallocated, I believe I deserve to be given the details in a more thorough manner, not just some folder thrown at me by a new kid.”</p><p>               “I apologize, Nijima, but it was a very quick and recent decision.  I simply did not want you to show up to the next briefing and be asked why you’re there.”</p><p>               “As much as I appreciate it,” she said with far less gratitude than she let on, “I still wish you could have at least scheduled a meeting with me regarding this.”</p><p>               “I evidently did not have to,” Murakata drawled slowly, folding his hands in front of his face as he always did when measuring the balance of power in a conversation.  Sae could not help her lips from pursing at that remark.  “But since you made the trip here, I suppose I can indulge your ‘dues’.”</p><p>               Not knowing how deep of a hole she had just dug for herself, Sae replied with, “Thank you, sir.”</p><p>               “I want you to understand that the line in the file about your ‘exemplary efforts’ was a genuine one, Nijima.  We are very thankful for your services in this case, and I assure you that you will not be discharged from it without appropriate compensation.”</p><p>               <em>At least he has the decency to bribe me</em>.  “But why was I discharged in the first place?  It seems not to be due to my performance.”</p><p>               “Far from it.  You have met the high expectations your career has set for you, as you always do.  We simply believe your expertise will be needed elsewhere.  A new case has come to light, though in some relation to that of the Kamoshida murder.”</p><p>               “A new case?” Sae asked curtly.  “What is it?”</p><p>               “Haven’t you heard about the new talk of the town, Nijima?  Or has your… <em>admirable </em>dedication to your work kept you locked in your office too much?”</p><p>               “I don’t see your point, sir.”</p><p>               “It would seem to be the latter case then,” Murakata nodded. </p><p>               <em>Well, fuck you too, then.</em></p><p>               “It regards the person who seems to have eliminated Kamoshida.”</p><p>               “You mean the yakuza?  Weren’t we already aware of that?”</p><p>               “It’s the yakuza, yes, though the reality of the situation may not be entirely what we expected.”  Murakata got up from his chair, putting a hand on his back as if it pained him to stand up.  He sighed as he walked in front of his desk and leaned against it, crossing his arms before addressing Sae once more.  “This talk of the town I referred to seems to focus on some… boy.  At least, they claim it’s a boy.  Our intelligence division has heard rumors of some ‘hero’ rising among the ranks of the Sakura clan, and one of our undercover agents has corroborated these claims.”</p><p>               “You can’t be serious, sir.”</p><p>               “That’s exactly what I said when I heard the news, but that seems to be what we’re dealing with.  Apparently, it was not the infamous ‘Gecko’ who put Kamoshida in the grave, but some boy who was along for the ride.  At least, that’s what some in the underground say.  Others claim he’s some kind of prodigal son, returning to the city to reclaim his birthright or some crap like that.  I would normally say it’s ridiculous, as the look on your face indicates you do, but there is enough recurring details among the many accounts to lend it some credibility.”</p><p>               Sae looked off to her side casually, measuring how the next thirty seconds would play out.  Murakata waited patiently for a response while Sae ran through about twenty possible choices in her head.  “You want me to look into it then,” she met his gaze again.</p><p>               “At the moment, I would actually like you to take it easy and let the grunts finish the flim-flammery part of your case.  But while you do that,” Murakata stood up straight, looking her deep in the eyes, “I want you to keep your ear to the ground,” he said in a quieter, darker tone.  “If any new details arise about this ‘hero-boy’, I want you to be the first to know about it.  And when the time comes that we can look into an investigation, you will be our first candidate for the leadership role.”           </p><p>               Sae should have felt relieved that she was not getting kicked to the curb off her own case, but what she felt instead was indignation at the very least.  In contrast to this sense of indignation, she replied, “Thank you for your consideration, sir.”  She bowed her shallowly.</p><p>               “It’s only natural,” said Murakata casually.  “You are an extremely valued member of our force, and it is for this reason that you will most likely be taking over our operation.”  Murakata’s eyes moved from her eyes to her bust with no attempt to hide it or be inconspicuous.  “I’m sure your father would already be beaming with pride were he here to see the kind of woman you’ve become.”</p><p>               Sae could not help herself from cringing, both for her superior’s leers and the remark about her father.  “An operation to try and find some kid?” she attempted to refocus the subject.</p><p>               “Well, if you want to put it planely,” Murakata shrugged.  “But for now, relax a bit.  Go to a bar or an arcade or something and just act like a normal woman.  Enjoy your life a bit.”</p><p>               “A normal woman?” Sae inquired with a glare.</p><p>               “Don’t take that as some sort of mockery, Nijima.  Anyone, man or woman, needs time for themselves every once in a while.  Hell, most of the strongest men I know would probably be dead by now if they worked like you do.”  Murakata placed a hand on Sae’s shoulder, and she fought her instinct to jerk away from him.  She knew what he <em>really</em> thought of her, and she also knew that this was far less than the maximum level of adversity she was willing to take for justice.  “Take a load off,” he said in a quieter tone.  “Go home for a while.”</p><p>               Sae looked away again, then back at her boss with a sideways glare; a silent indication of how she felt.  “I’ll be taking my leave then, sir,” she stepped back, releasing herself from his grasp, and bowed. </p><p>               “Thank you again for your efforts, Nijima.  Your compensation will be made available to you by the end of the week.”</p><p>               “Thanks,” she said curtly before closing the door behind her.</p><p>               Sae brushed her hair away from her eyes and back behind her ears.  Her skin crawled whenever Murakata leered at or advanced on her like that, but she knew she was far from the only woman in the precinct who endured such things, from Murakata or others.  Not that it made it any less uncomfortable.</p><p>               Mulling over the day’s events, Sae pinched the bridge of her nose indignantly after returning to her office.  She glared at the folder that still lay on her desk and thought of running it through the paper shredder back at her apartment.  <em>It’s not like they’re going to need copies of it</em>.  She also considered the nature of this “hero-boy” story, and whether it truly had any merit.  Surely Murakata must think <em>something</em> of it to consider placing her in charge of an investigation.  Either that, or he really did think of her as nothing more than a glorified intern with a fancy office.</p><p>               “Hero-boy, huh?” Sae asked herself aloud.  “It at least sounds less complicated than that Kamoshida guy.  Good, I can use a simple case every now and then.”</p><p>               …</p><p>               Hibito fell backward onto the cold concrete in a second as the punch connected with his jaw.  After regaining his senses, he tasted blood, felt his face throb.  His vision was blurry as he looked up to his assailant, who stood tall over him with fists clenched and gaze steely, his full dark hair rustling lightly in the cool night breeze.  His black suit jacket was wrinkled from the preceding struggle of getting Hibito into this back alley; spots of fresh blood adorned his white undershirt and black slacks.</p><p>               Hibito tried to get himself up off the ground but was denied with a strong kick to the face, causing him to reel backward again.  “P-p-please,” he sputtered, “I have the money.  Y-you know I have the money, man!”</p><p>               “Only a week too late,” the man sneered.  “And I also know that the money you should have payed is now lining some jackass loan shark’s pocket.”</p><p>               “I-I’m an entrepreneur!  And since you fuckers have been bleeding me d-dry, I needed a damn loan, okay?!”</p><p>               “That loan shark was associated with a conglomerate that directly opposes my employers.  You didn’t need some kind of business loan.  You were trying to skip town.  Now you’re out two payments and a couple teeth.  I hope it was worth it.”  The man kicked him across the face once again, causing Hibito to cry out.</p><p>               “Ch-chill out, asshole!  I got the money!  H-here!”  He scrambled to reach into this breast pocket and produced a leather wallet.  He opened it and held out 400,000 yen, handing it to the man. </p><p>His assailant looked between the money and Hibito.  He then put the money in his pocket along with his hands, making himself look deceptively relaxed and casual.  “The Sakura Clan appreciates your business, sir,” he nodded to him.</p><p>Hibito looked up to the man, then spat out a glob of blood onto his shoe.  “You yakuza are the cancer of this city,” he growled.  “Always have been!  I can tell you’re young.  You’re, what?  Twenty-one?  Twenty-two?  Get out of that business while you can, kid!  Go to school, get a real job, anything other than this shit!”</p><p>The yakuza looked down at him as if he were disappointed by his pet dog.  “My business is my own.  And <em>our </em>business is concluded.  I got other shit to do tonight.”</p><p>Hibito coughed out more blood and laid down on his back, trying to ignore the throbbing pain all through his head.  “It’ll come back to get you, kid,” he said as the man walked away from him.  “It’ll come back hard…”</p><p>The yakuza walked out of the alley and onto the always bustling Tenkaichi Street.  To his left was the main road, lined with people in stylish outfits trying their damnedest to flag down cabs.  The men still wore their suits from work, while most women wore short cut dresses of all colors, many of which sparkling as they reflected the light of the ever-present neon signs around them. </p><p>The yakuza rubbed his hand through his thick hair, shaking his head in an annoyed manner.  “Same shit, different night,” he muttered to himself.  He clutched the wad of yen in his pocket, reflecting on the manner in which he had obtained it.  “The hell have you gotten yourself into, Akira?” he said to himself with a groan.</p><p>               Kamurocho was alight with neon, matching the glitz and glamour of its infamous nightlife.  People walked by Akira casually, decked out in fancy clothing, expensive jewelry, and smelling of bank-breaking drinks.  He took out a cigarette and lit it, blowing a thin puff of smoke into the air as he walked by the various shops and restaurants on either side of him.  A barker for a hostess club was accosting pedestrians in front of him with nothing to show for it.  Akira bumped him with his shoulder as he walked by.  The barker threw swears his way as he passed, but Akira did not retort, only blowing out another puff of smoke.</p><p>               The young man was headed for the hostess club “Jewel” tonight, though it was not for the purpose of pleasurable excursion.  Instead, he was to meet the contact who would be picking up Hibito’s money.  Even after only two weeks of living in this city, Akira was not surprised by the choice of meeting place.  Kamurocho was famous for its hostess clubs, and he knew that many a yakuza partook in such establishments regularly. </p><p>               As Akira grew distracted by a group of women slightly older than him walking by, he felt a hard object bump into his shoulder, followed by an exclamation of “The hell, man!?”</p><p>               Akira stopped in his tracks, but did not turn around to face the man he had bumped into.  “Hey, buddy!” said the man.  “You gonna apologize to me for being such a retarded clutz?”  Akira did not move nor speak.  “Hey, I’m talking to you, asshole!  You got any idea who I am!?”  The man grabbed Akira by the shoulder and turned him around.  Akira was face to face with a businessman who could not be much older than himself.  The man appeared furious, before that fury left his face like it had just melted off him.  Akira glared at him directly in the eyes until the man unhanded him, and the young yakuza continued on his way with a deadly glare.</p><p>               From behind him, Akira could hear the man talking with some friends.  “Why didn’t you lay him out?” asked one.</p><p>               “That kid was obviously a muscle, man!” said the gentleman Akira had clocked.  “They don’t pay me enough to deal with <em>them</em>.”</p><p>               That was the end of that conversation, as the men quickly made off for any other street in the city.</p><p>               Passing by a parked car, Akira looked at his reflection in the window.  He spied a spatter of blood under his right eye, checking only for a moment if it was his own.  He wiped it off with his hand, confirming that it had been Hibito’s.  He looked into his own eyes in his reflection, taking in the dangerous glare that seemed plastered to his face. </p><p>He could not meet his own gaze for more than a moment.  He started on his way once again.</p><p>Akira soon came on the club, the magenta neon sign shining brightly into the street.  Without even the slightest acknowledgement, he walked past the bouncer and into the club.  He was greeted by the sound of slow jazz music, girls at each booth giggling with suspicious gusto, and men excitedly singing the praises of the girls they had payed to sit with them.  Akira looked around the room with one of the most condescending, judgmental expressions the poor young man at the reception desk had ever seen.</p><p>“Um, sir?” he prodded Akira.  “Can I help you this evening?”</p><p>“I’m meeting someone, actually.  I was told he’d have a table by the time I got here.”</p><p>“Who is the person you’re meeting?”</p><p>“Dunno,” he shrugged, only then paying the receptionist a glance.  “But I think you do.”</p><p>The receptionist’s concerned expression turned to a disapproving glare.  “Ah, you’re with him,” he said curtly.  “Follow me, sir.”</p><p>“Thanks, I appreciate it,” Akira deadpanned as he was led toward the back of the club.  A jazz band played a swinging beat on the front stage, and Akira was not ignorant to the concerned glares he received from the male patrons, or the intrigued leers provided by the hostesses. </p><p>They ascended a flight of stairs and the receptionist led Akira to a large booth that could easily hold eight people, but instead there were two beautiful girls in gowns of considerable luster, and what seemed to be a well-dressed college student with long, sandy brown hair that reached down to his shoulders, with his arms around their shoulders.  In hushed tones, he seemed to be making some sort of joke to the girls, indicated by their growing smiles that crescendoed in strong, surprisingly genuine laughs.</p><p>“Enjoy your stay, sir,” said the receptionist as he took his leave with a bow.</p><p>“Yeah, thanks.”  Akira looked down at the trio as he instinctively fixed his bangs, pushing them out of the way of his dark eyes.  “Excuse me,” he interjected, “you the guy?”</p><p>The young man, obviously slightly older than Akira, looked up from the girl on his right and took in the sight of Akira.  He nodded after looking him up and down.  “You are Kurusu-san, I suppose?” he asked.  His voice was surprisingly high pitched, almost boyish in tone, though he still spoke with considerable eloquence.  He then held out, to Akira’s surprise, his left hand.  “My name is Goro Akechi.  I’m pleased to finally make your acquaintance.”</p><p>Akira shook his left hand awkwardly.  “Yeah, you too,” he said before taking a seat next to the girl to Akechi’s right.  “Though, I’m surprised you know my name when no one ever told me yours.”</p><p>Akechi smirked at that with a nod of his head.  “You may be surprised, but I’m not.  You see, the rumors about you have spread like wildfire ever since the… incident.”</p><p>“Rumors, huh?” Akira asked.  He looked at the two girls he was in company with, taking in their vibrant smiles with a grain of suspicion.  “Are you sure this is the kind of thing we should talk about outside of work?”</p><p>“Absolutely.  There’s no reason to be worried.”  He reclined back in his seat, pulling the girl on his left arm in closer to him.  “They are both aware of our occupation, so there is no need to mince our words.  In fact, the Family I represent currently holds protection rights to this establishment, so we are allowed greater, well, freedoms in how we conduct ourselves compared to the regular clientele.”</p><p>“Such as?” Akira asked incredulously.</p><p>“Well,” the hostess next to Akira spoke up, “such as the ‘no touching’ rule doesn’t quite apply to you gentlemen,” she said flirtatiously before leaning closer to Akira.</p><p>He raised an eyebrow, appearing more uncomfortable than he had wished to as the girl wrapped her arms around his neck.  “Whoa, whoa, I don’t even, uh, know your name, honey.”</p><p>“It’s Aiko, but I go by about anything the customer likes,” she winked up to him.  “The customer is king, after all.”</p><p>Akechi could not help but chuckle at Akira’s discomfort.  “I’m more of a conversationalist myself, but I was not aware of your personal proclivities when making this reservation.  So, if you’d like to get a bit more personal with your hostess, I guarantee you won’t be reprimanded by the staff.”</p><p>“That’s great,” Akira deadpanned.  Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, Akira wrapped an arm around Aiko, who responded by immediately nuzzling up to him and placing a light kiss on his cheek, then his jaw, and then his neck.  He could not deny that the experience was enjoyable.  “Hey, Akechi.  The guy at the front didn’t seem too happy to see me when I arrived.  Is there something in my teeth?” he bared his front teeth to his associate.</p><p>“Not that I can see.  I’d imagine it’s because you’re a Family man.  Not all present are savvy to the pecking order, shall we say.”</p><p>“That doesn’t exactly surprise me.”</p><p>“Did he behave in any manner you would deem fit for reprimanding?”</p><p>“No, nothing like that.  Just seemed peeved by my being here, but that’s it.  You don’t need to rough him up on my account.”</p><p>“That’s good to hear.  Anyway,” Akechi resumed casually, “I assume you have the money, Kurusu-san.”</p><p>“Oh, yeah,” Akira reached down into his pocket, brushing against Aiko’s hips for a moment before producing the wad of cash.  Handing it to Akechi, he said, “This guy tried to screw over Kuze, right?  Does that mean you’re in his Family?”</p><p>“A brilliant deduction,” said Akechi with praise feigned so well it almost sounded genuine.  “Yes, I am in service to the Kuze Family.  I had the privilege of being inducted into his employment about fourteen months ago.”</p><p>“What did you do before that?”</p><p>“Oh, I was at university after receiving a full ride thanks to my scholarships.”  He snapped his fingers in the air and waived his hand.  “Waiter?” he called out.  One of the waitstaff came over with a bow.  “A bottle of Old George cordial at your earliest convenience, please.”</p><p>“It will be only a moment, sir,” he bowed again and left.</p><p>Unconsciously, Akira began rubbing Aiko’s shoulder.  “Sounds like some fancy stuff.  How much I gotta chip in?”</p><p>Akechi chuckled to himself again, his hostess joining in as well.  “You think <em>I’m</em> paying for it?  My friend, this is a business expense.  The tab falls on Kuze-san himself.”</p><p>“Kuze’s buying?” Akira asked with a smirk.  “Really?”</p><p>“Anything we like, he’s providing, as long as you had done your job correctly.  And assuming Hibito is not deceased, then we will consider your job a success.”</p><p>“He’s far from dead,” said Akira, lounging in the booth a little more.  “Nursing a concussion, maybe, but it isn’t near enough to kill him.”</p><p>“Excellent.  He was an idiot, but idiots like him are a dime a dozen.  He didn’t deserve to die for what he did.  It’s rather impressive that you were able to hold yourself back so much.  I’ve heard some unsettling rumors about your incident.”  Akechi moved his arm from his hostess’ shoulder to her hips.</p><p>“It was a hell of a lot more stressful than shaking down one cowering businessman.  I guess you really don’t have much faith in me.”</p><p>“It’s that I don’t have faith in you, it’s that I’m not quite sure of what kind of man you are.”  The waiter returned with a bucket of ice containing one of the most expensive bottles he had ever seen.  The girls clapped their hands giddily as Akechi took the bottle and opened it with precision and deftness.</p><p>“Geez, how much did that thing cost?” Akira asked, flabbergasted.</p><p>“Who knows,” Akechi smirked back at him.  “I don’t look at the prices anymore.”  Akechi filled an empty glass and handed it to Akira before repeating the process for the girls.  They clinked their glasses together as if celebrating a promotion or birthday and began sipping on their drinks.  To Akira, the taste was dry, strong, yet smooth and fruity.</p><p>He drank the whole glass in three minutes.</p><p>“Are you enjoying yourself?” Akechi asked upon noticing Akira holding Aiko closer to him, his hand now firmly holding her hip.</p><p>“Are you blind?” Akira responded with a smirk.  “You got good taste for drinks, man.”</p><p>“I’m glad you appreciate it,” Akechi smiled.  “I was not sure if a young man of your age would have a pallet developed enough to enjoy it.”</p><p>“What can I say?” Akira caught Aiko’s gaze.  “I like to try new things.  I’m an adventurous guy.”</p><p>Aiko covered her mouth daintily as she giggled.  “Is that so, sir?”</p><p>“I’m not the lying type when it comes to this stuff.”  Aiko kissed him once again on the neck.</p><p>Akechi gave his hostess a smirk as he refilled her glass.  “Are you enjoying yourself as well, Sukuyo?”</p><p>“Of course, I am!” she explained, wrapping her arms around his neck.  “You’ve been wonderful tonight, Akechi-kun!  It makes me so happy to host someone as courteous as you,” she paced a dainty kiss on his cheek.</p><p>“Oh, it’s my pleasure!  I just try my best to be the best I can be,” he smiled, though not in a cocky, self-satisfied way.  To Akira, he appeared to be genuinely happy in the moment.  This man was unlike any yakuza he had been introduced to thus far, save arguably for Ryuji.  They way Akechi conducted himself was more like that of, for lack of a better description, a normal person.  Had Akira not been privy to the context of his visit to Jewel, he may not have even suspected Akechi of being yakuza.</p><p>“So, Akechi,” he spoke up, “how did you get into the Family?  You said you were at university before that.  How the hell did that lead to you being here?”</p><p>“Oh, it’s quite the story,” Akechi nodded, casually looking out to the jazz band as they began to play more energetically.  “Though, I’m confident it’s not quite as fascinating as your own.  I’m not sure how it is <em>you </em>came to be involved with the Boss himself, but I have heard the rumors.  And let me tell you, they run the gambit from you having strutted into Kamurocho and beat up a rival gang, to you getting kicked onto your ass out of a cab.”</p><p>“I’m the one that asked the question, man.”</p><p>Akechi chuckled to himself before taking another sip of his cordial.  “Forgive me, I got carried away.  I’m just very interested in <em>your</em> story, Kurusu-san.  After all, I’m not the hero here.”</p><p>“I wouldn’t call myself a hero,” Akira looked toward the band himself, reclining in his seat.  “I just got caught in a bad situation and acted mostly on instinct.”</p><p>“Is that what you tell yourself?” Akechi asked incredulously.  “Because I’d wager you’re short-selling yourself.”</p><p>“Why do you say that?”</p><p>“I may not know all the details of what happened, but I am aware of this Kamoshida gentleman was.”  Akechi’s friendly and kind tone turned more serious as he continued.  “He was a cretin, monster, and vile beast; simply the worst kind of man.  Were I or anyone else caught in such a detestable scenario, I believe the result would have been the same.  I have, however, heard that you did not <em>immediately </em>open fire on him, or carve him into bloody chunks like some believe.”</p><p>“That’s true, except for the ‘carving’ part.  I didn’t kill him on sight.  In fact, I talked to him.”</p><p>Akechi, Aiko and Sukuya all gave him their full attention.  “You did?” asked Akechi.</p><p>“I did,” Akira nodded.  It was then not beyond Akechi’s perception when Akira’s face twitched, his jaw clenched.  “I talked to him for a few minutes,” he continued.  “I don’t remember much of it clearly, but I know it was every bit as awful and degenerate as you can imagine.  Then again, I don’t need to remember much to remember <em>that.</em>”</p><p>“I’m sure.  As I said, I’ve no doubt that anyone in such a situation would have acted the same way.  How do you feel about the outcome, Kurusu-san?”</p><p>“I’m still working on that,” he replied curtly.</p><p>“I see,” Akechi relented.  “I meant no offense, I assure you.”</p><p>“I know, it’s alright.  I don’t care, really.  It’s just a touchy topic.”</p><p>“Well, forgive me for spoiling the mood,” said Akechi, bowing his head respectfully to Akira.  “Is there anything I can order for you to make up for it?”</p><p>Akira stroked his chin for a moment.  “Well, now that I think about it—”</p><p>Akira was interrupted by a loud metallic crashing noise, bringing the whole room to silence in the aftermath.  Aiko and Sukuya clung to the gentlemen on reflex, with Akira and Akechi sitting up straight at attention.</p><p>“You don’t got the right to deny my men and I service!” a man shouted from the floor below them.  “You don’t tell us what to fucking do, even if you’re the goddamn owner!”</p><p>Akechi stood to his feet quickly.  “Sounds like a scuffle is brewing,” he said.  “Come, Kurusu-san.  Let us go.”</p><p>“Don’t gotta tell me twice,” Akira replied, standing to his feet and following Akechi down the staircase.</p><p>“Just leave my guys and I alone!” the man continued, shouting into the face of a server.  “If we wanna enjoy the girls, we’re gonna enjoy the girls!”</p><p>“But, sir, we have a strict ‘no touching’ policy!  I cannot allow—”</p><p>“You can and you <em>will</em>!”  The tall, brutish aggressor in a fine suit pushed the server to the ground among a pile of broken drinking glasses and pitchers.  Behind the brutish figure, two men dressed similarly laughed at the server while groping the curves of four young hostesses while they struggled against their grasp.</p><p>“This is bad,” Akechi remarked as they came to the bottom of the staircase.  “We must intervene, Kurusu-san.”</p><p>“I thought that was the plan all along,” Akira nodded with a confident smirk.  He walked forward down the middle aisle among the booths with Akechi, dress shoes clicking along the floor.  “Hey, jackass!” Akira called out.  The brutish man turned around slowly to face the young adults approaching him, glaring murderously at him.  “Didn’t your moms tell you to be nice to people working in customer service?  Their lives are sad enough as is.”</p><p>“Oh yeah?” the man looked down his nose at Akira.  “And didn’t <em>your</em> mom tell you to not interrupt adults in their private business, kid?”</p><p>“She did, and she also told me to stand up for women getting taken advantage of by scumfucks like you.  She’s a real ‘heroine of justice’ type.”</p><p>The brute chuckled deep in his throat.  “You’ve got quite a mouth on you, kid.  Children like you should learn your place, instead of strutting around like some damn peacock!”</p><p>“I peacocked your mom!” Akira shot back with a smirk.  Akechi lowered his eyes his way.  “What?”</p><p>Akechi clapped his hands together once, as if using magic to dispel the awkwardness now palpable in the air like fog.  “Gentleman,” he interjected, “I’m sure that this is the result of no more than some sort of misunderstanding.  Now, sir, if you would be so kind as to apologize to the host here, I’m sure we will be able to continue our nights unabated.”</p><p>“Not in this lifetime,” said the man with a growl in his voice.  “Your friend could use some education on when and how to speak to his elders!”</p><p>“Fine by me,” Akechi replied quickly, to the surprise of everyone involved.  “I wasn’t planning on letting you morons off easy anyway.”  Akechi looked to the man’s coat focusing on a blue pin in his lapel.  “After all,” his voice deepened, becoming more threatening, “you boys don’t belong in this neighborhood.”</p><p>“So that’s how it is,” the man nodded.  “That’ll just make it easier.”  He raised his fists and assumed a fighting stance.  “To your feet, boys!”</p><p>“Fuck that,” the fatter one remarked in an annoyed tone as he slid his hand under his hostess’ neckline.  “You can take a couple kids, boss!  We’ll just watch the show from here.”</p><p>“Sounds good to me,” said the tall, lanky one next to him in the booth.  “Get these stupid kids, boss!”</p><p>“I’m afraid that’s not how this works, gentlemen,” said Akechi.  “You all are to blame for this disturbance, so you all shall pay the price equally.  Boys!” he called to the band.  “Give us a tune fit to <em>electrify</em> this crowd!”  While most of the band looked to each other with blank expressions, an elderly man holding an electric guitar began to play a fast and rising lick, his fingers tapping furiously on the neck of the guitar.  “Ah, perfect!” Akechi exclaimed.  He turned around to face the endlessly confused yet suddenly excited customers.  He was illuminated in the golden light of the stage, giving off a confident aura even Akira found impressive.  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Akechi called out, “it’s <em>SHOWTIME!</em>” Akechi gallantly held his hands up into the air as the entire band came in, their swinging rock anthem building in intensity as if this whole ordeal was rehearsed.</p><p>The leader looked around in abject shock and awe at what was happening.  Snapping back to reality, the man tried to punch Akechi in the jaw, but the young yakuza with little visible effort.  In a flash, he was behind the man, and responded with a haymaker to the back of the head, dazing the brute.  “Kurusu-san!  To me!” Akechi called out to Akira.  Akira rushed to Akechi’s side, but not before kicking their adversary to the ground, his face landing in the puddle of ice and wine.</p><p>The brute’s two goons were laughing at their boss’s incompetence, cheering him on to get back to his feet, until Akira and Akechi stood over them.  They both smirked confidently down at the older men, with Akira even cracking his knuckles.  “Did I not say you don’t get to sit on the sidelines for this one?” Akechi asked.  “To your feet, gentlemen!”</p><p>Akechi swiftly reached and grabbed the fat man by the collar, allowing Akira to pick up on his intentions.  He did the same with the taller man, pulling him away from the hostess.  The two boys then spun the men around and hurled them into each other.  Once they were dazed and confused, Akira and Akechi brought back their arms with mighty cries, and punched both men in the side of the head, knocking their skulls together.  They both spat out saliva before collapsing to the ground, holding their heads in their hands.  The crowd cheered them extravagantly, with many men raising their glasses in toast, or hostesses standing to their feet and clapping for the yakuza. </p><p>“Excellent work, Kurusu-san!” Akechi nodded to him with a smirk.</p><p>“Hell yeah!  You too, man!  Now let’s finish up taking out the trash!” he turned to the leader who was standing to his feet shakily. </p><p>“Is that all you got?” he wheezed out.</p><p>“No,” said Akira.  “This is.”  The leader rushed at him as best he could, which by now was no more than a fast hobble.  Akira spun around him, putting him between Akechi and himself.  Before the man could turn to retaliate, Akechi and Akira simultaneously let loose high kicks that struck him on either side of his head.  Unlike his cohorts, the man remained on his feet, but only barely.  Akira pulled his shoulder so he was now facing him and unleashed two powerful punched directly into his nose.  He shouted “HIIYAH!” and headbutted him in his temple, and he fell to the ground flat on his back as his nose poured blood down his face.</p><p>Akira rubbed his forehead and shook the dizziness from his senses.  The customers erupted into cheers as the band finished their accompaniment before applauding in turn.  He felt a hand on his shoulder, and Akechi was at this side.  He slapped Akira on the back with a smile.  “Fantastic performance, Kurusu-san!” he said enthusiastically.  “That was perfect!”</p><p>“Thanks,” Akira nodded, smirking at him.  “Though I only did half the work.”</p><p>“Power and modesty.  How marvelous.”  Akechi waved to the crowd as they continued to praise them.  He provided two showy bows and the intermittent point and wave at specific hostesses.  Akira followed suit, basking in the excitement of the crowd.  “Hey, what are we gonna do about the perps?” he asked Akechi, who continued to play to the crowd’s enjoyment.  “Wanna call the police?  Or Iwai?”</p><p>“No such measures will be needed, my friend,” said Akechi.  “I have a far more agreeable solution.”  He walked over to the leader, who was still nursing his wounds.  Akechi picked him up off the ground and presented him to the crowd.  “You have done not but disturb these good people’s nights,” he proclaimed proudly.  “For this, I believe you it would be most appropriate for you to make it up to these fine ladies and gentlemen.  Do you agree!?” he called out to the crowd.  They cheered in affirmation.  “The it’s settled.  Gentlemen,” he addressed the thugs, “the tabs of every man and woman present for your brutish spectacle shall fall on you three, and you alone.  For everything they have purchased thus far,” he then turned back to the crowd, “and everything they will indulge in for the rest of the night!” </p><p>As the thugs looked to Akechi with empty fury and emasculating shame, the crowd erupted into greater applause then ever before.  Many businessmen threw money into the air, to the further excitement of their hostesses.  The whole club was now raucous with men and women shouting new orders and servers trying their best not to lose their minds while keeping up with said orders.</p><p>At least the earnings increased fourfold for the night.</p><p>“Kurusu-san,” Akechi put his arm around Akira’s shoulder as security escorted the thugs behind the building, “may I have a word in private?”</p><p>“Am I in trouble or something?” Akira joshed him.</p><p>Akechi chuckled lightly to himself as he led Akira away from the stage.  “Far from it.  Please, follow me.”</p><p>As a truly magnanimous party roared to life throughout the club, Akechi led Akira to the front entrance and out into the night air.  People were taking notice of the loud cheering and peeking through the windows along the sidewalk.  A line was beginning to form outside the entrance as gossip about some sort of “happy hour” began to circulate.</p><p>“What are we doing out here?” Akira asked.  “You already partied out, Akechi?”</p><p>“It’s not quite my style to engage in some uproarious parties, but that’s not why we’re out here.”  Akechi pulled out a cigarette and lighter from his pocket and lit the cigarette, blowing a puff of smoke into the air.  “Everything was growing too loud for such a conversation.”</p><p>“You gonna stop beating around the bush anytime soon, man?”  Akira pulled out his own cigarette and was about to light it when Akechi offered to light it for him.  After he felt the calm begin to set in, Akechi continued.</p><p>“Pardon my coy approach.  I am simply making sure we are not being eavesdropped on.”</p><p>“Are we?”</p><p>“Not to my knowledge, and I am a very perceptive individual.”  He took another puff of his cigarette.  “It is for that reason that I was able to notice your twitching when discussing Kamoshida.”</p><p>Akira maintained a plain visage.  “Your point being?”</p><p>“This may be presumptuous of me to ask, but would you perhaps consider yourself to be, say, scarred by the experience?”</p><p>Akira removed the cigarette from his mouth, looking back to Akechi.  “Why do you ask?”</p><p>“People claim you are some sort of great hero, facing down the darkness of the underworld with stride and fury.  However, you are adverse to discussing your tales of glory, and it seems to even bring about a physical response.  Would I be correct in guessing that it is some sort of flashback?”</p><p>Akira looked out into the street, his gaze slightly lowered.  “You got all that from a twitch?”</p><p>“Your eye twitched, your voice caught, if only slightly.  In addition, you are obviously a young man, and a new yakuza at that.  Your mental fortitude is likely more vulnerable than others in your family.”</p><p>Akira looked as if Akechi had told him the sky was green.  “Are you fucking done?”</p><p>Akechi raised his hands in surrender.  “Yes, sir, I am.”</p><p>“What are you, some kind of detective?”</p><p>“As a matter of fact, I am.  I was something of a prodigy in my hometown of Shibuya.  I even collaborated with the police while I was only a high school student,” he smiled pleasantly.</p><p>Akira’s glare somehow appeared even less impressed.  “Are you sure that’s just a cigarette, man?”</p><p>“Quite sure.  I’m telling the truth, I assure you.  I doubt that someone not so versed in investigative practices would be able to come to such deductions so quickly.”</p><p>“I completely agree,” Akira lied while taking another puff of his cigarette.</p><p>“So you admit I’m correct then?”</p><p>Akira sighed.  “Yeah, you’re mostly right.  Truth is, the whole Kamoshida business was some serious shit.  I’d only been with Boss for a few days when I got caught up in that whole mess.  Everything started out fucked and only got worse.  And now I guess I’m messed up in the head,” he shrugged nonchalantly.  “Thank god my dad is a counselor.”</p><p>“He is?”</p><p>“Yeah.  He’s been practicing since before I was born.  He taught me some ways to deal with this kind of stuff.”</p><p>“And do those coping mechanisms include cigarettes?”</p><p>Akira looked down at the cigarette he held in his hand.  “No,” he admitted slowly, “it didn’t.”</p><p>“I see,” Akechi nodded.  He tossed his cigarette aside and took in the sight of the rapidly increasing line leading into Jewel.  “Seems like the party is only getting started,” he remarked.  “I’d suggest taking in the festivities while you can, Kurusu-san.  I need to get going to deliver the money, though.  Don’t stop your rabblerousing on my account,” he gave Akira a smile.</p><p>“Thanks, but I think I’m gonna get going too.”</p><p>“Are you sure?  Have I spoiled your mood?  Was Aiko not to your liking?”</p><p>“No, that’s not it,” Akira shook his head, casting his cigarette butt onto the sidewalk.  “I’ve just had a long day and I’m not in a partying mood.”</p><p>“Suit yourself,” Akechi shrugged.  “However, let me shower you in praise one more time.  You fought with skill and tenacity to protect those in need.  Whoever trained you must be a great fighter.”</p><p>“You got that right,” Akira muttered.</p><p>“I must say, you are an incredibly interesting person, Kurusu-san,” Akechi gave him another friendly grin.  “I do hope our paths cross again soon, though perhaps under better circumstances.”</p><p>“Thanks,” Akira smirked at him.  “You fight well too.  I was surprised how in sync we were.”</p><p>Akechi nodded.  “My thoughts exactly.”  He then turned on his heel, facing away from the younger yakuza.  “Don’t get into too much trouble now,” he said back to Akira.  “Even the Familymen would be despondent if their hero were to meet an unjust fate.”</p><p>“Yeah, take care of yourself, Akechi,” said Akira with a wave.  “See ya around.”</p><p>Akechi waved without turning to face him and walked off down the street with some swagger.</p><p>Akira was now alone on the sidewalk, looking up and down the street as people flocked to Jewel to partake in the raucous partying.   As he thought on his conversation with this Akechi individual, his mind found its way back to Kamoshida.  He saw that bloody smile once again, and he got migraine for a split second, causing him to curl his face.  This must have been the sixteenth time that day, he guessed.</p><p>Trying to keep his mind occupied, he started on down the sidewalk toward the hotel he called home.  LeBlanc was about a five minute brisk walk from Jewel, but he took his leave slowly.  He smelled the many foods on offer from the various restaurants he passed, watched men flirt with their girlfriends, or hookers, or whatever they happened to be, let his eyes wander as he passed an adult magazine stand.  This was his normal evening routine by now.</p><p>And he hated it.  He hated that he was now growing <em>accustomed</em> to it. </p><p>He caught his reflection in a convenience store window shortly before reaching LeBlanc.  He appeared angry, ready to fight at a moment’s notice.  Was this truly him?  Was the man staring back at him really Akira Kurusu?  A part of him hoped not.  He was angry at the notion that it may truly be himself staring back at him.  It only made him appear more dangerous; a notion made evident by the people passing him doing their best to avoid his gaze.</p><p><em>What’s happened to me?  Why am I still here?  What is </em>happening <em>to me?</em></p><p>
  <em>Mom, why did this happen to me?  Why did you let this happen?  Why am I taking the fall?  I don’t want to be here, I don’t!  I don’t want to be here anymore, not another second…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Right…?</em>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2: Tears for Fears</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Chapter 2</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Tears for Fears</strong>
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</p><p>“Uh huh… yeah, sure, send her up… Yeah, thank you.”  Akira hung up the phone and sipped more of his wine.  Sojiro was still God knows where doing God knows what, so he had the apartment to himself for likely most of the night.  He thought on the fight he had gotten into an hour earlier, and the strange but charming young man that was Akechi.  “Strange” was the most appropriate word he could pin him with.  He was strangely upbeat, polite, and well-mannered, especially with women, for a yakuza. Akira even questioned once if he truly was a yakuza.  Perhaps he was pulling some elaborate scam?   A thought for another day, he concluded. </p><p>A maid was on her way up to the apartment. </p><p>Nothing was about to sway Akira from what was likely the only bit of stress relief he was going to get that night.  The drinking had become a more common part of his routine, and the smoking was a very recent addition, but only once before had he requested a maid to tend to him. </p><p>The first time had been three days after the Kamoshida incident.  At the suggestion of Sojiro, who made mention of a special massage service offered to some of their more elite clientele, Akira had stuttered his way through making such a request.  A late-20’s maid by the moniker of “Becky” would be his company that night.  And so would she be again this night.  She may have been considerably older than Akira, but he could not deny the soft strength and deftness of her technique.</p><p>A few minutes later, Akira was gazing out over the Kamurocho skyline, wine glass in hand though nearly emptied by that time.  The city was alight still with a sea of neon from the signs and white from the streetlamps, seeming to him like an ocean of stars.  Sojiro’s ludicrously expensive record player droned out <em>Any Colour You Like</em> by Pink Floyd with a warm and vibrant tone only a fine record player can produce.  Akira had half a mind to procure some marijuana and give “The Devil’s Grass” a try along with the flowing psychedelic tones, were he not expecting someone.</p><p>It was then that the elevator door opened, and in walked the tired looking but beautiful “Becky”.  Her long dark pigtails seemed disheveled, stains were scattered about her frilly skirt and shirt, and there were dark bags under her eyes.  Akira felt a twinge of guilt for requesting her until she smiled brightly at him.  “Thank you for requesting me, Master!” she cooed in a girlish voice betraying her age.  “I do hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.”</p><p>“No, you’re fine,” Akira shook his head.  “You know you don’t have to talk that way with me, right?”</p><p>“Most boys your age and even older love it though,” she beamed forcefully.  “All the maids do it!”</p><p>“Well can I make a special request then?”</p><p>“What is it, Master?”</p><p>“Don’t talk like that.  And don’t call me ‘Master’.”</p><p>Becky turned her cheesy smile to an indignant pout.  “You’re nothing like the others, you know that?”</p><p>“Isn’t it easier on you when you don’t have to talk like you’re from a maid café?”</p><p>“You have no idea,” Becky dropped her act entirely and removed her shoes with a sigh.  She rotated her back as she stood up straight, making a couple pops as she loosened the muscles.  “Anyway,” she continued in a much more normal voice, “what did you need tonight, Kurusu-san?  It doesn’t seem like you need much cleaned up.”</p><p>“No, that’s not it.”  Akira walked past her and walked to the sink, downing the rest of the burning, dry drink before washing it out.  “Same thing as last time, Becky.  Though I can tell you’re not exactly in the mood for it.”</p><p>Becky let her shoulders droop, exhaling slowly.  “It’s extra pay, at least.  Sorry, I’m just really tired.  It’s been a long day, kid.”</p><p>Akira nodded, pausing before he responded.  “Then why don’t you go home?”</p><p>Becky’s eyes widened slightly, evident of her confusion.  “What?  What do you mean?”</p><p>“I mean exactly what I said,” replied Akira plainly.  “Go home, get some rest.  Hell, crash here if you need to.  Sojiro couldn’t give less of a damn, I promise.”</p><p>Akira watched Becky’s reaction closely.  He could tell immediately that she truly wanted to say yes, but she seemed to refocus after a moment.  However, her dejection was not lost on him.  “I need the money, and you need some help, Kurusu-san.  I’ll stay as long as you need.”</p><p>The kinder part of Akira wanted to insist that she go home and sleep, but the more selfish part of him convinced the kinder part that to do so would be denying her much needed pay.  It was a weak excuse, but he remained convinced.  “Alright,” he shrugged.  “If you insist, sweetheart.”  Becky appeared put off by that last remark.  “What, you don’t like being called that?”</p><p>“It’s awkward enough being called those kinds of things by men my age or older, honestly.  Having a kid call me that is just…”</p><p>“Right,” Akira nodded.  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”</p><p>“No, no, I’m the one at fault.  You’re the master, after all,” she flaunted that incredibly fake smile once again.  “You can call me whatever you like!”</p><p>Akira raised an incredulous eyebrow.  “For the sake of compromise, I think I’ll go with ‘Becky’ for now.  Unless you’ve got some other preference.”</p><p>Becky looked away from him immediately upon him saying that.  He was about to ask what was wrong now when she said, “Kawakami.”</p><p>“Beg your pardon?”</p><p>“My name is Sadayo Kawakami, actually.  ‘Becky’ is the name I use to sound more youthful and attractive as a maid.  I hate being called it, honestly, but it helps get better tips.  If it wouldn’t be too awkward or troublesome,” she struggled to get the simple words out, “would you please call me Kawakami?”</p><p>Akira was surprised by her frankness, though not unpleasantly.  He nodded casually, not exhibiting much outward response.  “You could’ve said that last time, you know?  If that’s what you prefer, than that’s what I’ll call you.”</p><p>“Really?”  Kawakami appeared almost shocked.</p><p>“Really,” Akira smiled lightly.  “I’m not into all that ‘master/servant’ bullshit anyway.”</p><p>Kawakami chuckled to herself, and Akira realized this may have been the first time he had seen her genuinely smile.  “I appreciate it.  But enough about me!  You’ve wasted enough money listening to me drawl on as is!”</p><p>“It’s a drop in the bucket, really.  But if you’re so eager to get this done, now is as good a time as any.” </p><p>“Geez, don’t sound too excited about it,” Kawakami snarked, walking to the young man’s bedroom.  Akira followed her closely as he stretched his arms and yawned.  His eyes traveled down her body slowly as she walked.  It is not like her outfit was trying to leave her form to the imagination or anything.</p><p>Kawakami sighed as quietly as she could as she entered Akira’s bedroom.  She intended for the younger man to not hear her, but he did all the same.  Akira, however, did not deem it needing of any comment.  He knew this was one of the last ways she wished to spend her night after a long day of work, and he still felt guilty for calling on her in the first place.  But this would not take long, and he was a hero, after all.  He deserved some bit of comfort by his reckoning.</p><p>“Take off your shirt, then,” Kawakami said.  “Won’t get much done with that thick jacket on you.”</p><p>               Akira did as she said, casting his shirt and jacket to the ground with dismissively.  He heard Kawakami gasp behind him and he rolled his eyes, expecting this reaction.  “Your arms,” she whispered.</p><p>               Akira looked down at his scarred wrists, dark lines crisscrossing under his hands.  Some scars were pale, others were darker and uglier.  “Didn’t you see this last time?” he asked slowly.</p><p>               “It wasn’t this bad,” said Kawakami sternly.  “Some of those are fresh.”</p><p>               Akira shook his head, sitting down.  “You’re imagining things, or seeing it wrong in the low lighting.”</p><p>               “I am <em>positive</em>, Akira,” she looked down at him, seeming both angry and strangely sad.  She grabbed his wrists and inspected them closer, with Akira doing nothing to stop her.  “When did you do this?”</p><p>               “Is that info necessary to your job?”</p><p>               “Oh, cut the bullshit!  What, am I not allowed to be concerned about a kid just because I’m wearing this awful outfit?  You need medical and psychological help, not drinks and a massage.”</p><p>               Akira shot up to his feet, standing a whole head over Kawakami.  Her expression remained stern, but did step back on reflex.  He looked down on her now with a cold, annoyed stare.  “And yet, here we are even so,” he muttered in a low, raspy tone.  “Now, how about we do what you’re payed for.”  He turned around and laid down on his front, presenting his back to Kawakami, who sighed deeply.  Akira did not look back at her, so he did not see her wipe a small jewel of a tear from her eye.</p><p>               “Alright,” she nodded, regaining her composure.  “If you insist.”  Kawakami climbed onto the bed, sitting on top of Akira’s legs.  The young man closed his eyes as Kawakami began to slowly massage his shoulders.  “Don’t think I’m going anywhere below the belt though.”</p><p>               “I didn’t expect you to.”</p><p>               “Then you’d be one of the first.”  She started massaging him harder, working her way down from his shoulders to his upper back.  Akira sighed as her deft, firm touch began to relax him.  “You’re extremely tense,” Kawakami said.  “Rough night?”</p><p>               “I got in a couple fights, actually.”</p><p>               “A couple?”</p><p>               “Yeah, two.  Well, it wouldn’t be too accurate to call the first one a ‘fight’.  I was picking up a debt from some dumbass that was trying to skip town while owing money to the Kuze family.  I tracked the guy down thanks to a tip from Iwai, and gave him a few good hits and kicks until he forked over the cash.”</p><p>               “Oh,” Kawakami replied awkwardly.</p><p>               “Then when I went to drop off the money, I helped the guy that was picking it up kick some rapey dumbshits to the curb.  They were getting too handsy with some hostesses and thought the best course of action would be to start a fight rather than just tone it down a bit.”  Akira chuckled in his throat.  “Fucking idiots, I swear.”  Kawakami stopped massaging Akira for a moment.  “What is it?” he asked upon noticing.</p><p>               “You just… seem to be pretty happy about it.”</p><p>               Akira took a pause, thinking on what he had just described, and how he had described it.  He raised an eyebrow as he considered his attitude and demeanor regarding the fights earlier that night.  “Yeah,” he finally said.  “That a problem?”</p><p>               Akira then felt Kawakami get off of his back, sitting beside him on the bed with her arms crossed.  He looked up to her to see her staring at his arms.  Though his scars were not visible, he knew that was what she was focusing on, worrying about.  “It is absolutely a problem,” Kawakami said.  “Last time we did this, you could barely speak you were so traumatized by what happened.  And now you’re <em>happy</em> about injuring people.”</p><p>               “I was protecting some innocent girls, Kawakami.”</p><p>               “What about the debtor?”</p><p>               Akira knew that was coming, but still had to pause to come up with a response.  “He was some low-life screwing with people more powerful than him.  Had he not given up the money, god knows what would have happened to him.  Looking at it a certain way, I was potentially saving his life.”</p><p>               “By beating and humiliating him.”  This was an argument Akira had hoped to avoid, but still felt unprepared for.  He turned his arm over, looking at the scars he always hid by wearing sleeves, even on warm days.  “When did you last cut yourself?” asked Kawakami pensively.  “You never answered me.”</p><p>               Akira continued to inspect his scars for a long moment.  “Three days ago,” he finally replied.</p><p>               “Why?”</p><p>               “I had a bit too much to drink.”</p><p>               “That’s the only reason?”</p><p>               “Are you paid to interrogate me or massage me?” Akira whirled his head around, glaring at her as he grew more impatient.  Kawakami, however, did not budge.</p><p>               “I don’t give a damn about the money if this is what you’re trying to avoid, kid.  That’s why you called me here, isn’t it?  So you don’t have to be alone and get to the point where you might cut yourself again?  You may not remember it much, but two weeks ago, you were a complete wreck of a person, barely able to stand up or talk, and it wasn’t from the drinking.  Are you just afraid of having more panic attacks--?”</p><p>               She was cut off by Akira sitting up on the bed, puffing out his chest as if defending his territory from a rival, appearing far more imposing.  “You don’t understand,” he sneered.  “How could you ever understand?  Have you ever killed a man, <em>Becky</em>?  Huh?  Have you ever shot a man bloody and just kept fucking shooting him!?”</p><p>               “Sh-shut up!”</p><p>               “You asked, didn’t you?!”</p><p>               Kawakami shot to her feet and backed up to the doorway, holding her hands to her chest.  Akira recognized pain and fear on her face, and he felt his stomach drop as he looked on her cowering from him like he were a wild animal.  “Kawakami,” he muttered, “I… I’m sorry…”</p><p>               “You’re hurting,” Kawakami whispered.  “I’m sorry that you’re hurting.  And no, I’ve never killed anyone.  I’m sorry for asking you and not just massaging or pleasing you.  It just hurts <em>me</em> so much to see young people like you corrupted in this business.  And I’m seeing those exact same signs in you, but much faster than most.”</p><p>               Akira lowered his head, holding it in his hands.  He did not cry, but simply felt all the relaxing the massage had blessed him with be undone.  All his body seemed to tense and tighten as the weight of his problems bore down on him.  “I can’t say I disagree with you,” he muttered.</p><p>               “Then what are you going to do about it?” Kawakami seemed to plead with him.  “Why are you even still <em>here</em>?”</p><p>               Akira looked back up to her.  She saw stray tears in his eyes, those his face was expressionless, empty.  “It’s complicated,” he said simply.</p><p>               “That’s all you’re gonna say, huh?”</p><p>               “Yeah,” he nodded, standing to his feet.  “That’s all.”  Akira then pulled his wallet out of his pocket, producing five thousand yen.  “Here, take it.”</p><p>               “I barely did anything, except make you more upset.  Literally the opposite of what I was called here to do.”</p><p>               “And it would make me more upset if you didn’t take it.”  Akira then reached into his pocket and pulled out another three thousand yen.  “Don’t try to argue with me.  Just take it.”</p><p>               Kawakami looked shocked, looking between Akira and the money.  Slowly, she extended her hand and took the money as slowly as if she expected it to be poisoned.  “Thank you,” she said in a near whisper, a ghost of a smile creeping to her face.</p><p>               “You’re welcome.” </p><p>Akira could not bring himself to smile, and began to close the bedroom door behind Kawakami until she stopped it with her hand.  “Akira?” she asked slowly.</p><p>“What is it?”</p><p>“Just… please don’t do that again.”</p><p>“Get mad at you?  Noted.”</p><p>“No, you idiot.”  She grabbed his left arm and turned it so the scars were facing up.  “Never do <em>this</em> again.”</p><p>Akira’s skin stung as her grip pulled on the scars.  Two drops of blood seeped to the surface, though only he seemed to notice.  “You’re awfully concerned for someone who barely knows me.”</p><p>“This may come as a surprise to you,” Kawakami let go of his arm, “but there are some people here who are just kind for the sake of it.  Doubly so for someone as young as you.”</p><p>“And you count yourself among those people?”</p><p>“You can answer that yourself.”  Kawakami stepped back and bowed to the younger man.  “Goodnight, Kurusu-san,” she said.</p><p>“Goodnight, Kawakami-san,” Akira bowed his head, then closed the door.  He heard the clicking of her heels along the floor move toward the elevator, then a ding as the elevator was called, and then she was gone. </p><p>“Nice lady, at least,” he remarked to no one.  “Nosy as hell, but nice.”  Akira looked down at his arms again, thinking back on how they came to be that way.  Three times in the last two weeks, he had cut his wrists.  His reasons varied slightly each attempt, with the most significant similarity among the latter two being the amount of alcohol he would consume beforehand.  He sighed as he rubbed his left wrist with his right thumb, smearing away the stray blood.</p><p>“What is wrong with me?” he muttered.  “Mom and Dad would have a heart attack if they knew about this.  Hell, they’d have a heart attack if they knew about anything I’ve done in the last two weeks.”  He laid down on the bed, staring up to the ceiling.  The music continued to play in the foyer, as if providing a depressing soundtrack for the scene.  Akira covered his eyes with his forearm, trying to close himself off from the world.  His mind traveled to Kamoshida, to the events of that morning, but he tried to divert it to happier things.</p><p>He thought of his mother, with her long dark hair framing her beautiful smile as she made him his favorite dinner for his birthday that Spring.  He thought of his father fixing his glasses as he helped Akira with his psychology homework, leading to a two-hour discussion on the inner workings of the human mind.  It was only as he remembered his sixteenth birthday, surrounded by his friends and what little family he had in his small hometown of Shimonosuke, that he noticed the cold dampness on his cheeks. </p><p>He was crying.</p><p>All these pleasant memories made his chest tighten as he whimpered.  He thought about how happy his parents were with him, and how they would likely respond were they to know the truth of what he had done.  “<em>You idiot!” </em>he could hear his mom scream at him.  <em>“You little monster!”</em></p><p><em>“I can’t believe this,”</em> said his dad’s voice in his mind.  <em>“You should not have come back.  Don’t ever come near this house again!”</em>  Akira saw his friends back home running away from him, terrified of the thing he had become.  He clenched his fists so hard he nearly broke the skin of his palms.</p><p>He saw Ann’s face as she discovered him cutting himself.  Her terror, her anger, her disgust.  She had left Kamurocho later that day, and that face haunted him ever since.  What followed her discovery of him was hazy, unfocused.  But that face, looking at him as she beheld the monster he was and is, was fire branded into his memory. </p><p>Akira knew that if he were to return home, and people were to find out the person, the <em>thing</em> he had become, they would all react the same way.  The whole town would be terrified of him, his friends and family would scorn him and cast him out.  At least, with him staying in this kingdom of decadence, he would not need to face those reactions.</p><p>Akira began to cry.</p><p>“I… I just wanna go <em>home…  </em>Mom…?  Mom… <em>I wanna go home!</em>”</p><p>But in his heart, he knew one thing for certain…</p><p>He could not go home.</p><p>
  <strong>…</strong>
</p><p>               Miyato Sohei adjusted the lapel of his jacket as he sat in a comfortable chair outside the main office.  The waiting area was bathed in orange and gold light, with small plants arranged about in deliberate, efficient patterns.  On the wall in front of him was a mural of a samurai with his arms crossed, standing over a group of worshipful onlookers as they seemed to praise the overthrowing of some shogun, who lay in front of the samurai with his head sat beside him.</p><p>Sohei was an outwardly unimpressive salaryman, with a black jacket, white shirt, black pants and shoes; an all together typical Japanese businessman, betraying his yakuza profession.  He was aware of his inconspicuous appearance and nature and was not bothered by it.  Being unremarkable on the outside set expectations easily and entertainingly subverted.  Whenever he was sent in to broker a deal between clients, they would assume him to be some no-name pencil pusher.  His knowledge of business and silver tongue would then cause his clients to nod their heads approvingly, and this impressive contrast would always cause them to sign the dotted line quickly.</p><p>               He knew this little parlor trick would be useful once again when called into the office.</p><p>               “Sohei-san,” said a quiet, meek woman’s voice.  The door next to him opened, and in the doorway stood a short but endowed secretary.  Her white shirt was drawn tight over her chest, and Sohei wagered her skirt was about two inches shorter than what was considered appropriate workplace attire.  He also noticed a slight, suspicious stumble in her step as she walked in stiletto heels, though it did not seem to be from the shoes themselves.</p><p>               Sohei glanced at his watch.  10:46, it read.  He had been told it would be a ten minute wait before he would be admitted, and it had been precisely ten minutes since he had sat down.  With an impressed nod, he got to his feet and passed the secretary, who bowed to him reverently as he walked by.</p><p>               The office was spacious at the very least, providing room enough for a large desk, a bookshelf, a wine rack, a couch with a coffee table, and still room more to entertain an entire board of directors.  At the large desk, there sat a man pouring over some papers.  He was bald to the point of being spotless, he wore dark rimmed glasses on his face, and sported a goatee that he stroked while examining whichever paper caught his attention at the moment.  His shoulders were broad and strong, and his torso was wide.  Both aspects together exhibited a strong build, even while sat down.</p><p>               A placard at the front of the desk read “Masayoshi Shido”.</p><p>               “Shido-san,” the secretary spoke up from behind Sohei, “Sohei-san is here to see you.”</p><p>               “Ah, yes,” Shido spoke up, putting the papers down, “please, have a seat, sir,” he motioned to the couch.</p><p>               “I appreciate it,” said Sohei.  He took his seat, straightening his back as he sat down.  “Thank you for meeting me on such short notice, Shido-san.  The Omi Alliance greatly respects your cordiality.”</p><p>               “Well, one must be always available to seize opportunities when they strike, sir.  I was very pleased when I received your call.”  Shido spoke with the same confident swagger he exuded physically, as if the strength he purportedly had manifested even in his voice.</p><p>               “And we intend to uphold all terms proposed, sir.  My employers were frankly floored when they were read your plans.”</p><p>               “Flattery, eh?” asked Shido with a smirk.</p><p>               “Not at all.  Flattery is an embellishment of truth.  What I have said is a completely accurate account, and nothing more.”</p><p>               “I’m admittedly surprised.  Was my proposal so magnanimous that even Shimano-san would take pause?”</p><p>               “He did not pause, per se, but did let out a booming laugh of approval.  That’s quite a lot better than most get.”</p><p>               “So I’ve heard.”  Shido got to his feet and walked around the desk.  He leaned against it and crossed his arms informally.  “Am I to believe that you have some sort of paperwork for me to sign?”</p><p>               “Indeed, sir.”  Sohei produced an envelope from inside his jacket and handed it to Shido, who opened it quickly and inspected it.  “You needn’t read it too closely, sir.  It’s mostly a transcription of our call.  The important part is on page three—”</p><p>               The door was flung open abruptly, cutting off Sohei mid-sentence.  He wheeled around in his seat to check on what had happened, while Shido’s eyes simply rose to look that was dispassionately.</p><p>               “Yeesh, tough crowd,” said a raspy male voice.  “That line always works, I swear!”  Walking through the door was a tall, lanky man with a black hooded coat.  Red, jagged designs adorned the chest and arms, travelling up to the hood.  He was slouched over, making him appear slightly shorter than he actually was.  A thin, snake-like smile crossed his face, and his eyes were thin, pale, and beady.  Sohei felt a chill run up his spine as he took in the sight.</p><p>               “Do you mind, Terumi?” Shido addressed his with an annoyed tone.</p><p>               “Hey, you’re the one that wanted me hear in the first place!  Besides, your new secretary is a real hardass.  I prefer the previous one, honestly.”</p><p>               “I’m not surprised.”</p><p>               Sohei stood up and gave the man called Terumi a greeting smile fit for a businessman, if only to make sure this man did not take any sort of offense from his presence.  “Good evening, Mr. Terumi,” he bowed.  “I am Miyato Sohei, representing the Omi Alliance.”</p><p>               Mr. Terumi looked at him incredulously before offering another bone-chilling smile in reply.  “Please, man, Mr. Terumi is my father!  I’m just <em>Terumi</em>.”  He uttered that final word with a palpable venom that nearly stung Sohei as it traveled through the air.  Sohei was left without an immediate response, and Terumi did not seem to notice or care.  “Shido, what’s with this guy?  I thought you were done with meetings for the day.”</p><p>               “This will be quick, I assure you,” Shido flipped the pages over in his hand.  “In fact, we were just finishing up.”</p><p>               “We were?” asked Sohei.</p><p>               “Of course.  You did say that the only important part was the final page, right?”</p><p>               “Yes, that’s right.”  Sohei was having a harder time maintaining his composure as he felt Terumi staring at him over his shoulder.  “Does that mean you are ready to sign?”</p><p>               “I believe so,” said Shido.  He turned around and put the papers down on the desk, then too a pen in hand and began writing.  And the continued to write.  Sohei knew that the only writing required was Shido’s signature, but a long moment passed before Shido stood up straight again and put his pen down.</p><p>               “Have you finished, sir?” Sohei asked.</p><p>               “I have.”  Shido handed him the paper, and it was now that Sohei truly noticed how much taller Shido was than him.  Easily standing nearly two meters tall, Shido looked down on him with a gaze strangely disapproving.  “I did take the liberty of perusing the papers, however.  And while I did see that everything we agreed upon was included, I noticed one little detail that may have been overlooked.” </p><p>Shido reached out his hand to Sohei to shake it.  Tepidly, he accepted.  Shido’s grip was firm, his hands feeling like the bones were made of rock.  Terumi did not even try to repress a chuckle from beside the two men.  “What was that little clause about my organization being <em>absorbed</em> into the Alliance, Sohei-san?”</p><p>Sohei tried to let go of Shido’s hand, but he was caught in a vice grip that was getting firmer with every passing second.  His heart started to race, sweat appeared on his forehead as the handshake became painful.  “It—it was agreed upon, sir,” Sohei replied, his voice quivering.  “I swear, we did not alter the deal in any way!”</p><p>“Then what is this bullshit about <em>absorption!?</em>”</p><p>“Oh, you really fucked up,” Terumi remarked with a smile as Sohei tried to shake himself free of Shido’s grasp.  The shaking turned to flailing, but Shido only tightened his grip. </p><p>“Let me get one thing clear with you and your bosses,” Shido sneered.  “You <em>need</em> me.  You need me and my associates on <em>good terms.</em>  Without me, without my plans, everything you’ve worked for is going to go to hell in an instant.  I’m the only person in this country who can prevent that.”  Shido tightened his grip even harder, something Sohei prayed must have been impossible.  The smaller man was now reeling, crying out in pain as he felt his hand getting crushed.  He tried to pull Shido’s arm away or swat at Shido, but he was completely unaffected.  It was as if a gentle breeze was trying to push a boulder.  Terumi’s chuckle turned to high-pitched cackling laugh.  “When you go back to Shimano, tell him not to bite the hand that <em>feeds him</em>!”</p><p>There was a sickening crack, and a cry of anguish from Sohei as the bones in his hand finally broke in Shido’s grasp.  Sohei fell to his knees, tears streamed down his face, but even as the pain intensified further, Shido continued to crush his now broken hand, increasing the pain tenfold.  Terumi was nearly doubled over in laughter as the man cried out as if being tortured.</p><p>“P-please, <em>STOP!  </em>For Christ’s sake, <em>STOP!!!”</em></p><p>“This is just a strong message, Sohei,” said Shido with no inflection whatsoever.  He gripped Sohei’s hand even tighter.   The man screamed bloody murder as his nerves were overwhelmed.  “Go back, and make sure they know that we are on <em>equal</em> footing.  No more, no less.  Got it?”</p><p>“Y-yes, <em>yes!</em>  You sick fuck, <em>YES!”</em></p><p>“Ooh, fighting words!” Terumi exclaimed amidst his laughter.  “Want me to break his other hand too for that, boss?”</p><p>“<em>NO!”</em></p><p>“That will be unnecessary, Terumi,” said Shido.  “I think he got the hint.”  Shido threw Sohei’s black and blue hand aside, and the man recoiled on the floor, whimpering to himself.  “Take your papers and go back to HQ.  Tell them <em>exactly</em> what I said, then they may contact me.”</p><p>“You think… you’re the one giving orders here!?” Sohei shouted.</p><p>“Aren’t I?”  Shido pressed a button on the phone next to him.  “Amon?  Escort out guest to his vehicle.”</p><p>“Understood,” a deep voice responded.</p><p>“The hell are you talking about!?”</p><p>The door opened once again, and a tall man with a long black coat, a black suit and black sunglasses entered.  The fear of God and death entered Sohei in an instant as “Amon” walked up to him and picked him up from the ground with ease.  “This way,” he said.</p><p>“What are you doing!?  You can’t treat me like this!  The Omi Alliance won’t stand for this!”</p><p>“Oh, I’m absolutely certain they will,” Shido smirked as Sohei was lead to the door, clutching his hand to his chest.  “Times are changing, Sohei.  And when <em>my </em>deal is accepted, you’re all going to find yourselves at the top of the heap, and the Sakura Clan licking our boots.”</p><p>With Sohei still shouting expletives and cries of pain, Amon escorted him from the office, and there was not but quiet as Shido, Terumi, and a very frightened secretary were left alone.</p><p>“Ha <em>HA!</em>” Terumi guffawed.  “This is why I <em>love </em>working with you, Shido!  Everything is always so exciting around here!  I can’t wait to see old Shimano’s reaction now that you’ve told him where to shove his bullshit!”</p><p>“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t excited myself, Terumi.  Shimano is old and tough as nails in a fight, but when it comes to business, he lacks sense.  He’s proud, but breakable.  I’m sure of it.”</p><p>“And what if his patriarchs get riled?  Can’t have any loose ends at a time like this.”</p><p>“I understand your excitement to get to work, but I wish to bring as many allies to my side as possible.  Remember, you’re a last resort, Terumi.  As is our Ace.”</p><p>“How is he doing, anyway?  I’ve been waiting to meet the little enigma for a while now.”</p><p>Shido turned to look out his window, which comprised the entire wall behind his desk.  The lights of Sotenbori, Osaka shined below them like a sea filled with jewels sparkling in the moonlight.  “He is currently working surveillance in Kamurocho.  He’s gotten quite comfortable with the place, as it seems.  I was about to pull him out and have him wait on standby here in Osaka when the Kamoshida incident occurred.  After that, I knew he would need to stay to see how things play out in Sakura’s territory.”</p><p>“Has he got any interesting tidbits to report?”</p><p>“Not much as of yet, though that will change very soon.  He is to meet with one of my most influential allies in a few days.”</p><p>“You can’t be serious!?” Terumi cackled like a hyena again.  “That dumbass Okumura actually fell for it!?”</p><p>“Fell for what?  I was entirely serious with my proposal.”</p><p>“He didn’t at least think for a <em>moment </em>that it might be too good to be true?”</p><p>“He may have, but I don’t intend to cast him aside that easily.  If he maintains his end of the bargain, there will be no problems.”</p><p>“And if he doesn’t?”</p><p>“Then I already have a contingency for that.”  A smirk crept its way to Shido’s face unconsciously.</p><p>“Well, you’re the big bad boss, after all,” Terumi shrugged.  “What did you want me here for anyway?  I could have been out on the town ruining a brothel right now.”</p><p>“One of my prospects came close to letting some information slip to an undercover police officer.  You’re here to show him the error of his ways.  He’s chained up in the boiler room already.”</p><p>Terumi’s snake-like grin widened to an almost unnatural degree as thoughts of how he would “enlighten” the kid danced through his head.  “Ooh, you’re too kind, boss!  I’d be happy to show you why I have a one hundred percent satisfaction guarantee!”</p><p>“Do not take too long, though.  I have another errand for you to run tonight.”</p><p>“Just one quick question,” Terumi rung his hands together with growing anticipation.  “How bad of shape should he be in by the end of tonight?”</p><p>“Let’s just say if his mother wouldn’t even recognize him by the end of it,” Shido turned around to face his associate, “then put him out of his misery.”</p><p>“Oh, <em>fuck yes.</em>”  Chuckling darkly to himself, Terumi turned toward the door.  As he walked, he leered at the secretary in a way that made her recoil to the back corner of the room.  He walked out the door and made his way toward the elevator.  “Oh hoo, this is gonna be one hell of a party,” he muttered to himself, gradually building into an excited cackle as the elevator doors closed.</p><p>Shido looked at his secretary as she cowered in the corner, then back outside, hands held behind his back.  “They just had to make it complicated, didn’t they?” he asked no one in particular.  “No matter.  Nothing can stop what I’ve set in motion.”  A thought clawed its way to his mind at that moment.  A long past memory, from a bygone era, a different life.  “Anri,” he muttered, “if he really is your son, then having him was the worst mistake of your life.”</p><p>              </p><p>              </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3: Ripples of the Past</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Chapter 3</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Ripples of the Past</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>The next night…</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>From her balcony, cigarette dangling lazily between her fingers, Sae looked down on a late-twenties couple stumbling about the alley below her apartment. They were drunk, uncoordinated and uncouth, slurring what little words they spoke as the man felt up her rear with no shame on his part nor objection on that of the woman's. While Shibuya had never been emblematic of grace and piety, Sae noted everyday how the rampant saturation of debauchery was in an entirely different league from that of her hometown.</p><p>Often, Sae wondered what her father, Shintaro Nijima, would have done in her stead. How would a man as upright and just and successful as him look upon her being taken off her own case, reduced to a prop in a city of desire and sin, and failing to look after her last living family member.</p><p>Giving in to a habit she cursed herself for being unable to break, Sae looked behind her to a photograph beside her bed, taking another puff of her cigarette. Displayed in the photograph was a man, her father, with two girls at either side of him. One was Sae Nijima in the gown she wore at her college graduation, holding her diploma of outstanding academic excellence in criminal science and law studies. The other girl was considerably younger, in a middle-schoolers uniform. Her hair was dark, unlike Sae's smoky gray, though they shared much of the same facial features, including their red-tinted brown eyes. Both girls beamed with excitement as their father radiated pride. Shortly after that photo was taken, their father would treat them to a fancy dinner, where Sae would hold back tears over their mother not being present for her greatest accomplishment.</p><p>Makoto, her younger sister, would try everything she possibly could to comfort her, reassure her that their mother was looking down on them from Heaven above, overwhelmed with pride and happiness. While her youthful idealism did not stop the pain she felt in her heart that day, it did help her hold back her tears better.</p><p>A few months later, the responsibility of caring for her sister would fall on Sae's shoulders alone, as their father was run over by an errant truck, and killed on contact. Many in the police force suspected it to be an assassination, revenge on part of one of the many criminals he had put away in his career. The funeral came and went, the mourning stayed far longer, even while Sae poured herself into her work while trying to care for her younger sister. Their relationship was strained at times, as Sae was far from the maternal type, but she still put forth every effort she could to make sure Makoto lived a good life and pushed her to achieve everything she possibly could.</p><p>Where Makoto was now, what she was doing and how she was living, Sae could only guess.</p><p>
  <em>The only thing I know for real is the power of the law. If the law believes this course of action to be right, then I have to abide by it.</em>
</p><p>She thought as such, true, and did believe it in her logical mind. The more emotional side of herself wondered for a moment whether she was just being fucked over by a man's world, but she perished the thought immediately.</p><p>Sae leaned against the railing of her balcony, letting out a cloud of smoke from her mouth. Across the street, there was an office building, its mirrors reflecting the streetlights and people on the sidewalk hazily, almost with a liquid texture. Looking up and down the floors of the building, she focused on what seemed like a worker standing still in the window. Sae could make out a bandana on his head and a raggedy jacket on his torso. She could swear he was staring at her. The woman stared back, an unblinking and steely scowl on her face. The man turned around and walked down the hall.</p><p>This was not the first time she had spotted someone watching her. She was made aware of the prevalent yakuza presence in Kamurocho back in law school, and considered it an invigorating challenge were she to take it on someday. But when she arrived in the kingdom of decadence, there was no such grand conflict for her to jump into, no heart-racing battle or perplexing conspiracy like she had heard greatly embellished rumors of. Instead, she was greeted with a quiet, passive-aggressive dread from her coworkers, like a plague all were aware of but had simply gotten so used to that they barely paid any outward mind to it. Rarely did people talk about the yakuza, but when they did, it was in hushed tones, thoughtful whispers, and a callous sense of understanding. The cold reality of their lack of care for the situation put her off at first, but she felt herself recently falling into a similar mindset.</p><p>Information on yakuza activity was thin in the last twenty years, arousing additional suspicion from Sae. Little was known of their practices, their reach, at least that was how it seemed. Nothing much was ever said about them openly, both at the precinct and out in the city. Whenever she asked Murakata or her coworkers about how to best address active yakuza activity, she would always receive flat, non-comital answers such "Use your discretion, but don't go out of your way." When she would call bullshit on such things to her fellow police, she would receive the same kinds of replies. "That's just how it is," they would say. Sae would normally leave the conversation after that.</p><p>Then there was Goro Akechi. Young, learned, well spoken, and seemed to possess a stalwart conviction on justice for all, especially those who think themselves above the law. At times, she found it idealistic and annoying, but it was still refreshing to see someone with their head not shoved completely up their ass. Though, he could be described as having his head up his ass in other ways.</p><p>The precinct brought him on four months ago thanks to some sort of "outstanding reputation" regarding his detective skills. She had heard of him back in Shibuya when he attained a reputation as a "detective prince" thanks to his exemplary academics and numerous apprenticeships in law, allowing him to collaborate with the police on certain cases. After graduating from high school, he seemed to become something of a recluse and focus entirely on his university studies, as little records exist regarding him until he graduated early with high honors.</p><p>She had only worked with him a couple cases, but Sae and Akechi often spoke when they had free time. He was kind, considerate, and professional in ways that only a young person not yet jaded by the real world could be. Within the last month, he had even taken up asking Sae out for sushi once in a while – for entirely platonic, professional reasons, of course. She found it endearing, in some sort of way. At least someone on the force had the decency to offer to pick up the check.</p><p>Sae walked back into her spacious apartment, putting her cigarette in the ash tray on the coffee table. The calm was taking over her, and she let out a long sigh as she reclined in her seat. She unbuttoned her shirt and tossed it aside, leaving her torso covered by a thin undershirt.</p><p>It was difficult for Sae to get out of the headspace she defaulted to when at the precinct: cold, callous, calculating, and competitive. Rarely was she able to feel like what she was doing, the person she was on the inside, was enough. How could it be enough? She was dropped off her own case, constantly had to fight tooth and nail to secure any kind of substantial work while many of her coworkers, especially those o the male sex, were practically spoonfed opportunities right before her eyes.</p><p>Many had told Sae that she was imagining things, that everyone was treated with equal indifference by Murakata, but the thought that some sort of prejudice, be it related to her gender, her history, or otherwise, constantly clawed and scratched at the back of her mind. Ironically, the only way she was able to drown it out completely was when she was drowning herself in work on the rare chances she was granted the boon of a complex case that would then take up every bit of her time for weeks.</p><p>Most would call her life lonely, perhaps even miserable. The words of most go through one ear and out the other. Those who say she was "lonely" were not too off the mark though. At least, she would occasionally admit that when laying in a hot bath with not but a bottle of wine and an adult toy when she had the time.</p><p>As a lazy, foggy sleep began to take her, Sae was roused by a sudden phone call that dragged her back to reality. Running through a dozen possibilities of who it could be, she picked up the phone beside her quickly.</p><p>"Hello, this is Nijima."</p><p>"Yo, Sae-san!?" a deep male voice lacking a Japanese accent replied.</p><p>"Wait, Mack?" Sae held the phone close to her mouth, her eyes widening as she heard her contact and friend call to her frantically. "Mack, what's wrong?"</p><p>"Sae, shit's going down in Osaka, man! You know I don't call you unless it's the real shit, yeah? Damn, there goes my fucking vacation."</p><p>"Just spit it out, Mack! What's going on?"</p><p>"Sae, you know that Tatsu guy running for Prime Minister next term, right?"</p><p>"What about him?"</p><p>"Well…" Mack trailed off. In the silence, Sae could hear what sounded like bustling, frantic people in the background. She could make out frightened pedestrians and police trying to keep the peace. "He's been murdered, Sae. Hung up outside his office like a goddamn ritual!"</p><p>Sae paused a long time before she responded, breathing deeply and slowly, maintaining her professional composure more than her excitable contact.</p><p>"Give me the details," she said. "Give me everything you got."</p><p>…</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Meanwhile…</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>"Look, man," Ryuji continued as they walked down the street, "I'm just sayin' that Big Bang Burger's got nothin' that American stuff? You've never had a real American burger, have you?"</p><p>"Can't say I have," Akira responded.</p><p>"Okay, so they don't like tofu much in the states, right? That means that all those burgers, those fuckin' <em>humungous </em>burgers they scarf down like nothing, is usually real honest to God meat."</p><p>"You saying that we don't get real meat on our burgers here?"</p><p>"Nah, man! I'm on the inside of that shit! Big Bang Burger <em>tastes</em> good, yeah, especially for the price, but let me tell ya, that's no <em>real </em>burger. It's all frozen beforehand and thawed on some disgusting fryer. You go to a real burger joint in the states, none of this fast-food crap, and oh god, that's the real shit, man."</p><p>"When did you get to go to the states, man?"</p><p>"When I was fourteen, my mom scraped together some savings and took us there. Got to go to some place called 'Burger Bar', and oh man! It was amazing! Their mushroom swiss was amazing! Oh, I can still taste it when I think about it!"</p><p>Akira chuckled at his friend's exuberance. "If I'm ever in the states, I'll remember the name."</p><p>"You better! It's gonna ruin every other burger you have back in Japan, but it's worth it, man!" Ryuji was about to engage in another diatribe on the incredible nature of American burgers when he was distracted by a poster in an old shop they were passing. "Hey, check it out, bro!" Ryuji pointed to the poster. The faded picture was that of a high school girl with light brown twin tails, smiling as she seemed to be praying. "Yo, it's Risette!" Ryuji exclaimed. "Oh man, I ain't seen one of these in ages! I was totally obsessed with her music and commercials back in high school. I'm not into idols normally, but her smile really got to me. And her body too, I guess. I mean, you had to see those swimsuit commercials she did back then, didn't ya?"</p><p>"Yeah, I saw them," Akira nodded toward the poster thoughtfully. "She is pretty cool. Makes a mean tofu dish too."</p><p>Ryuji froze for a moment, then slowly looked back at Akira. While the dark-haired young man had his hands in his pockets as if what he had just said had been completely normal, Ryuji looked like his eyes were about to fall out of his head. "You fucking what, bro?"</p><p>"I said she makes good tofu."</p><p>"And how do you know <em>that!?</em>"</p><p>Akira smirked at his friend. "I thought you might react that way when you said you liked Risette. She's from my hometown, man. Worked at her grandma's tofu shop when she wasn't doing commercials or touring."</p><p>"Are you saying you <em>know </em>Risette?" Ryuji inquired, getting right in Akira's face.</p><p>"Yup," he nodded casually. "We group in the same hometown. Even went to high school together whenever she was on a break from showbiz. Hell, she's even dating my best friend."</p><p>"<em>AND YOU NEVER THOUGHT TO TELL ME!?"</em></p><p>"I didn't know you were into her."</p><p>Ryuji looked at him completely dumbfounded, then facepalmed. "'You never asked'. That's what you're saying?"</p><p>"Basically."</p><p>"Bro, you can't do a bro like that! You can't keep something like that to yourself!"</p><p>"Sorry, man, I guess I just don't really see her as an idol or celebrity. I've known her since I was seven, Ryuji."</p><p>"That's rad, dude," Ryuji eye's widened in admiration and amazement.</p><p>"Yeah, I guess you could say that," Akira smirked. "She's a really cool person, and a total sweetheart. You'd never guess she was a celebrity if you didn't know beforehand."</p><p>"Sounds like you were into her too."</p><p>"Nah, not really." They continued walking down the street slowly, enjoying the warm night air and smells of foodstands they passed by. "I mean, yeah, she's gorgeous, but I always saw her as more of a good friend."</p><p>"Even after she made it big?"</p><p>"Even then. Besides, she was always into my best friend anyway. Our friends and I always joked that they'd been dating forever but were the last ones to know it. They were hopelessly into each other all of high school but didn't seal the deal until third year."</p><p>"Pfft, lucky guy," Ryuji muttered.</p><p>"Jealous much?"</p><p>"Piss off, man," Ryuji replied sarcastically, eliciting a laugh from both young men. "So, Akira," Ryuji continued, "lay it on me straight, okay?"</p><p>"What's up?"</p><p>"Ann. What did you think of her?"</p><p>Akira looked at his friend incredulously. "What are you getting at?"</p><p>"Oh, come on, don't think I didn't notice, man! You were totally out of sorts when she left. You miss her, don't cha?"</p><p>Akira shook his head, looking the other way conspicuously. "Don't know what you're talking about."</p><p>"I'm not mocking ya or anything. Just trying to get the low down, you know?"</p><p>"No, I don't really."</p><p>"Well, if she ever comes back, you can bet that I'll do my best to—" Ryuji cut off sharply.</p><p>"What's up now?" Akira asked. He looked where Ryuji was staring, and saw down the sidewalk none other than two burly yakuza standing at either side of Sojiro Sakura, one of them being Munehisa Iwai. "Did we miss a meeting?" Akira asked quietly.</p><p>"No, man, tonight's our day off."</p><p>The men approached the boys quickly. "Ryuji, Akira," Sojiro nodded to them as he approached. "I was hoping I'd find you out here."</p><p>"Can we help you, Boss?" asked Ryuji respectfully.</p><p>"I can tell you think you're in trouble, Sakamoto, and I want to start by saying that's not the case. I was actually just looking for our young hero here," he looked to Akira, who narrowed his eyes at him.</p><p>"Akira?" Ryuji asked. "What do you need with him?"</p><p>"Just a quick chat, is all."</p><p>Akira crossed his arms to the immediate ire of the bodyguards. "That sounds ominous."</p><p>"It's nothing remotely like that. Ryuji," he turned his attention to him, "I'd hate to pry you two apart, but I'm afraid I need to speak to Akira in private to go over current events. He is rather dense to these things, if you haven't noticed."</p><p>"Got me there," Ryuji shrugged with a smirk.</p><p>"Dude."</p><p>"What? It's true."</p><p>"Akira," said Sojiro, "please walk with me for a moment. Ryuji, you're free to go for the night."</p><p>"Yes, sir," Ryuji bowed his head. "Good luck, dude. See ya around!"</p><p>"You're just gonna – Oh, damn it," Akira muttered as his friend walked off quickly in the other direction. Akira turned back around to face the yakuza. As if reassuring him that everything was alright, Iwai gave him a slow nod of the head. Akira responded in kind after a moment of consideration. "Well," he shrugged, "let's get going then. I'm already kind of tired."</p><p>"Sounds good to me," said Sojiro. "This won't take long, kid."</p><p>The four walked in tandem silence for a few minutes, drawing many lingering, narrow stares from passersby. Whispers followed their every step, many made their way to the other sidewalk to avoid the dangerous looking men. Sojiro and his companions seemed unaffected entirely, as if this was simply the natural way of things to them.</p><p>They soon came upon a small café, the words "Café Alps" emblazoned over the door. "Ah, Café Alps," Akira said to break the silence. "I'd been meaning to try the coffee here, actually. I heard it was really good."</p><p>Sojiro laughed in his throat. "You heard right, kid," he nodded, opening the door for them.</p><p>Iwai and the other bodyguard remained outside as they entered the quiet little restaurant and shop. There was no more than ten people in the café at the moment, mostly couples enjoying coffee and pastries as slow, relaxing jazz played through the speakers in the ceiling. The furnishings were not what Akira normally associated with an eatery, comprising mostly of what appeared to be fancy lawn furniture, like the ones he saw in international tourist magazines discussing European destinations.</p><p>Sojiro walked up to the front counter casually, taking in the scent of coffee grounds and finger food. The man at the counter noticed him approaching and stood at complete attention before bowing. "Ah, Sakura-san," he said as he bowed, "good evening, sir. Shall I clear the restaurant for you?"</p><p>"No need for any of that, Taishi," Sojiro replied. "In fact, I'd far better appreciate drawing as little attention to us as possible."</p><p>"Oh, of course, sir," Taishi nodded in a way suggesting he was somewhat relieved. "Please, sit anywhere there's space."</p><p>"Thank you kindly." Sojiro and Akira took a table for two at the far end of the restaurant. Not knowing what else to do in the awkward moment, Akira began to peruse the menu. Various types of coffee he was not even aware existed were arranged on the menu, and he ended up ordering the Brazilian blend for not much more reason than it was surprisingly expensive, therefore it must be good.</p><p>"Do you come to this place often?" asked Akira.</p><p>"I do, honestly. It's regarded as one of the best coffee houses in Kamurocho. Which is fitting, since I taught Taishi how to really hone his craft."</p><p>"Whoa, you taught him how to make coffee?"</p><p>"Not how to make coffee, but how to extract the best possible flavor from the grounds. I do have a life outside of the yakuza, you know."</p><p>"Never would have pegged you for a barista though."</p><p>"You kidding, kid?" Sojiro smirked. "Making coffee was a large part of how I met my wife."</p><p>"You're married, Sojiro?"</p><p>The Boss paused for a moment, looking down at the menu. His eyes seemed to darken for a brief flash. "I was, yes."</p><p>"Oh," Akira looked away sheepishly. "I'm, uh, sorry."</p><p>"It's alright, really."</p><p>Their meals were brought to them a moment later, and Akira took a short sip of the hot coffee. It had bite, but was still smooth and easy to drink. He admitted to himself that the brew was truly delicious, portrayed visibly by his eyes widening with excitement as the coffee graced his tongue. Sojiro noticed Akira's enthusiasm, but simply nodded contentedly.</p><p>After a moment of slightly more comfortable silence, Akira finally asked the question which had been burning in his mind for too long. "So, Sojiro, you knew this was coming. Why are we out here?"</p><p>"What? Is the coffee not good enough to warrant the trip?"</p><p>"Isn't it impolite to answer a question with a question?"</p><p>Sojiro nodded with a light smile. "Indeed." He took another sip of his coffee and placed it back on the table. "Surely you have at least some idea as to why you're out here."</p><p>"The Kamoshida business, right?"</p><p>"In part, yes."</p><p>"Oh, of course," Akira rolled his eyes, crossing his arms in front of him. "There's always something else with you people."</p><p>"What do you expect? We're in a completely different world from that of civilians. Though you already know that."</p><p>"More or less," Akira said in a darker, less patient tone.</p><p>"But yes, the Kamoshida incident is a large part of it. I'm sorry we weren't able to have this conversation sooner though. I've been quite busy with damage control for the last couple weeks."</p><p>"Damage control? Good to know, because it's felt more like you were avoiding me."</p><p>"Not at all. I was just trying to control the very quick spreading of rumors after you whacked the guy."</p><p>"I'm already somewhat familiar with these rumors. Your guy Akechi filled me in a bit."</p><p>"Ah, Akechi," Sojiro nodded, leaning back in his chair. "Bit of a weird kid, but a valuable asset nonetheless. Kuze was very lucky when he found Akechi last year."</p><p>"What exactly does he do for you?"</p><p>"What any other heavy does for us, though with added emphasis on… spycraft."</p><p>"You're shitting me."</p><p>"Not in the slightest," Sojiro smirked. "The kid's a very good manipulator and actor. If we need someone to go undercover for any reason, Akechi is our first pick. It's also the reason you don't see him out and about too often. Don't want potential marks to see him fraternizing with their enemies."</p><p>Akira nodded thoughtfully. "He does seem like the type. A bit too polite for what I'd think a yakuza would be like."</p><p>"And what do you think a yakuza should be like, Kurusu?"</p><p>The weight of his previous statement fell on Akira like an anvil as he realized what he had just said. "That's not what I meant," he backtracked.</p><p>"Perhaps, but I'm not quite sure what you meant. I was asking you to elaborate."</p><p>Quickly, Akira replied, "I don't know. All I really know about yakuza before the last couple weeks was from movies and urban legends. My mom sure as hell never told me anything, though she's such a kind person that I never would have thought of her as yakuza."</p><p>"You mean to say that yakuza can't be kind?" Sojiro pressed him.</p><p>Akira was feeling caught in a foxhole by now. "I don't know."</p><p>"Relax, kid, I'm not interrogating you. I was just curious as to how you think of our way of life now."</p><p>"You still won't tell me why I'm still here, you know," Akira said with a dark tone. "I've got no desire to remain in this 'way of life', and you know that, but you still keep me around. Why? Is this why you've been avoiding me for so long?"</p><p>"I haven't been avoiding you, as I said," Sojiro replied sternly. "I've been extremely busy trying to make the best of your messy business."</p><p>"That doesn't answer my question. You still haven't told me about the guy I punched, except that he's some kind of dangerous yakuza."</p><p>"Danger and ambition in equal amount," Sojiro began slowly. "And what's worse than equal danger and ambition? A man with the resources and knowhow to accomplish those ambitions. I'm sorry I haven't been totally open with you, Akira. I see that you don't know much about your family history, and I didn't want give you too much sensitive information."</p><p>"And leading me by the nose was the better alternative?"</p><p>"Unintentionally. I told you, we've all been busy, just like you."</p><p>"Are you ever gonna be forthcoming with me, Sojiro?" Akira glowered at him.</p><p>Sojiro raised an eyebrow at the younger man, appearing more curious than offended. "There's a reason your mother never told you about her past, you know," he began slowly, speaking in a dark, methodical tone. "She was a good person through and through, but no amount of good deeds would alleviate the pain she's gone through. It's honestly remarkable she turned out as well as she did."</p><p>"What are you getting at, old man?"</p><p>"I'm saying that some things may be better explained by her than me," Sojiro said resolutely. "I respect and care about her too much to overstep those boundaries."</p><p>"Piety?" asked Akira with a biting tone. "That's why you're leading me on all this time?"</p><p>"If that's how you want to look at it, yes."</p><p>Akira did not expect such a dry and matter of fact response, but he could not say he was too surprised upon reflection. "Is there anything at all you can tell me?"</p><p>Sojiro looked to his side, taking another sip of his coffee. "If it will ease your mind, I may be able to spare some details."</p><p>"Fucking finally," Akira muttered.</p><p>"Watch that mouth of yours, kid," Sojiro chided him before finishing his cup of coffee. "Anyway, I can at least start with this little tidbit: do you know your mother's nickname from back when she was with the Clan?"</p><p>"Didn't even know she had one."</p><p>Sojiro whistled to himself. "Hoo boy, she really didn't tell you jack shit."</p><p>"Pretty sure we covered that at some point."</p><p>"Are you saying I'm senile?"</p><p>"I'm saying I'm very, very interested," Akira snided.</p><p>Sojiro shook his head dismissively. "You certainly didn't get <em>that</em> from your father."</p><p>"Mom always did say I took after her."</p><p>"You have no idea." Sojiro cleared his throat before continuing. "In fact, it's that fiery disposition that was partly responsible for your mother's nickname. Way back when, we called her 'The Dragon of Sakura'."</p><p>Akira's expression softened ever so slightly. "What does that mean?"</p><p>"Ah, finally got your attention, did I?"</p><p>"Yup, you got it," said Akira quickly.</p><p>"Good. That title was given to your mother by me, actually. Though it was also to honor her father at the time, who held that title first. You wouldn't happen to anything about your grandparents, would you?"</p><p>Akira shook his head. "Mom told me they died in a car accident shortly after she and dad got married."</p><p>"Figures." Sojiro paused as if searching for the right words to continue. "You can probably guess that that isn't exactly true."</p><p>"Yeah, I'm getting that feeling. Are they actually dead though?"</p><p>Sojiro looked at the younger man with a deathly serious glare. "I'm sorry, I can't tell you."</p><p>"Of course not," Akira leaned back in his chair dejectedly, glaring off into the distance. "Just gonna keep leading me on like usual."</p><p>"Like I said, it's because I respect your parents and want their business to be told by them, when the time is right. They've sacrificed more for you than you know, Akira."</p><p>Akira's glare remained plastered to his face, but his jaw seemed to unclench a bit. "That part they have told me before. It was on my sixteenth birthday."</p><p>"I see."</p><p>"I told you when we met that I wasn't surprised that they had ties to the underworld, right?"</p><p>"I remember."</p><p>"Well, on my sixteenth, I asked my mom why she had no family that ever came by, unlike my dad's side. She tried to change the subject, but I asked again, this time including all the training we'd done to build me into a fighter. She started crying, apologizing for… something, she never got too specific." Sojiro did not reply, but listened intently to every word. "I didn't ask again after that."</p><p>"Did she ever open up to you anymore about it?"</p><p>"Around my graduation, a little bit. She apologized again for all the secrets, told me that she and dad had made 'great sacrifices', all that kind of stuff. I actually stopped her before she started crying again."</p><p>Sojiro nodded approvingly. "You care about her very deeply."</p><p>"I've been angry at her ever since all this happened, honestly," the boy admitted slowly. "But I still think she's the best mom in the world."</p><p>Sojiro chuckled quietly. "You may very well be right on that. At least close."</p><p>Akira smiled involuntarily. "You think so, old man?"</p><p>"She didn't earn the title of 'Dragon' just because she's a good fighter, you know. Dragons are protectors, guardians. Their passionate wardens for the things they hold dear, and will go to any length to protect the ones close to them. It's that strength combined with passion that runs throughout your family line."</p><p>Akira nodded, though felt like he did not fully understand what Sojiro was talking about. However, something stirred within him, telling him that there truth to the old man's words. "You saying I could be a dragon too?" Akira asked with a joking tone, though some small percentage of him was genuinely curious.</p><p>"Only time will tell," Sojiro smiled. "I already see your mother's fire in you, even with how you handled Kamoshida. You jumped headfirst into hell to protect your new friends without a second thought. That kind of passion for justice inspires people, Akira. Your grandfather was just the same way."</p><p>"Was he a dragon too?"</p><p>Sojiro smirked knowingly at Akira. "A dragon unlike any other before him. He was a watchful guardian, an ironborn fighter, and a good friend." That last description sounded to Akira almost wistful. "Do you know his name?"</p><p>"Fuma, right?"</p><p>Sojiro laughed to himself and shook his head. "Oh, your mother has <em>plenty</em> to tell you, Akira."</p><p>"Oh c'mon! You're just gonna leave me with that?"</p><p>"Sorry, kid, but that's your family business. When the time comes, and your business here is complete, I'm sure your mother will fill you in on everything."</p><p>"That's really shitty, old man," Akira said with less ire than his words implied.</p><p>"Well, show me in your next assignment that you have the makings of a dragon yourself, and maybe I'll tell you some more stories."</p><p>"Next assignment?" asked Akira.</p><p>"Indeed," Sojiro nodded. "I have a much more important mission for you than just beating some debtors. You see, a subsidiary of ours has come upon hard times lately, and we have reason to believe it may be sabotage. Are you familiar with the Kitagawa family, Akira?"</p><p>"May have heard it in the grapevine, but can't quite place it."</p><p>"That's not too unusual for a new prospect. They don't deal in much yakuza business, and operate mostly on the fringe of our deals. However, that old man really knows how to make money. Come to think of it, he's got a grandson right about your age. You may have a new friend in the works, kid."</p><p>"You guys really try to keep the business in the family, don't you?"</p><p>"Blood is one of the strongest bonds in the world," said Sojiro. "If cultivated correctly, much like coffee, those bonds can ensure generations of prosperity."</p><p>"Smooth," said Akira with a smirk.</p><p>"I try. Now, tomorrow night, you will be escorted to one of the Kitagawa family's clubs on the other side of town. Ryuji may go with you, if you wish. You will meet with the liason, discuss their current problems and any new developments that may have come about, and report back to me so we can act accordingly. Oh, and try to be polite, please."</p><p>"You saying I'm not polite?"</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>"Touche."</p><p>"Glad we're on the same page." Sojiro perked up a moment and reached into his breast pocket. He pulled out a small pager and looked at it before quickly typing in something and putting it back in his pocket.</p><p>"You know," Akira began, "I'm still not down with this whole business, right? I don't like being ordered around like one of your dogs."</p><p>"Shut it," Sojiro shot back out of the blue.</p><p>"Whoa, the hell, man?" Akira asked with growing irritation. "What, did the waiter piss in your coffee or something - ?"</p><p>He cut himself off when looking up to the television hanging above them from the ceiling. A reporter was discussing some sort of breaking news. "ASSASSINATION" trailed across the screen in bright letters.</p><p>"Prime Minster candidate Tatsu was found murdered, hanging from his apartment window in Sotenbori, Osaka earlier tonight," the newscaster spoke. "Upon investigation, police found what seemed to be an assault on the Representatives private security, with sixteen security agents found dead. Details on the supposed assassination are still coming to light, but early responders believe this heinous act to be perpetrated by an organized crime syndicate."</p><p>"What the hell?" Akira muttered.</p><p>"We need to leave," said Sojiro as he stood to his feet. He walked over to Taishi and handed him a wad of yen worth far more than the meals they had received and walked briskly toward the door with Akira in tow."</p><p>"The hell is happening, Sojiro?" Akira asked frantically. "That wasn't your guys, was it?"</p><p>"Not a chance," Sojiro replied as they made their way into the night air. Iwai and the other bodyguard walked beside them as they rushed back toward Sojiro's private limousine. "However, we have to lay low for the night before more people see the news, then begin sending out our own investigations."</p><p>"Got any idea who it might be?" Akira asked as they approached a fancy limo parked a couple minutes walk from the café.</p><p>Sojiro stopped as they came to the car. Iwai opened the door for them and the other bodyguard got in the driver's seat. Sojiro looked at Akira with the look of the devil in his eyes. "I do," he said as they took their seats. "And we need to act quickly."</p><p>"You don't mean…"</p><p>Sojiro nodded as the car started driving away. "I don't know for sure, but if it's really him, then we potentially have much larger problems on our hands."</p><p>"You mean the guy I hit," Akira said in a tense whisper. Sojiro nodded. "Tell me his name."</p><p>Sojiro looked out the window, watching the world go by, all the people coming and going, completely unaware of what was happening. "Masayoshi Shido."</p><p>…</p><p>
  <strong>Chapter 3 – Part 2</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Dishonored</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Two hours earlier…</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>He slipped on his reinforced gloves as he crouched on the rooftop. Below him, people walked about the business district of Sotenbori, oblivious to his presence. Though he was entirely concealed in the shadows, aided by his black attire, he would look over his shoulder every few seconds to make sure no one was able to spot him. He pulled out a small handgun from his duffel bag and put in its holster on his hip. Next was his shortsword. Measuring only fifteen inches from base to tip, it was perfect for stealth operations like this one. He sheathed on the other side of his waist and pulled out the last item from his bag.</p><p>A metal mask and black cloth hood.</p><p>The mask was ornate, somewhat gaudy, resembling a plague doctor's mask with a much shorter nose, extending only as far as his own nose did. The eyes were wide and vacuous, and there was a mouth like that of a skull carved into the metal. He slipped on the mask, bonding to his face perfectly, then raised the hood.</p><p>His identity was protected with the mask, and his body was safeguarded by the reinforced Kevlar lining of the suit, which resembled something of European design. There was flaps on the chest of the hardened leather jacket that extended past his waist. The getup made him look dangerous, but was understated enough to be used for stealth. Truly a remarkable piece of work, it was, allowing him free range of movement while also keeping him protected.</p><p>He was ready.</p><p>He stood to his feet, looking down on those below him once more. He then broke into a sprint, deftly jumping from one rooftop to the next. Even on the uneven surfaces, he never lost his footing. Every step, every movement of his body was fluid like water. He ran for five minutes across rooftops, ducking behind any obstructions he came across to maintain his stealth, until coming upon his mark.</p><p>There was a large office building in front of him known as the Takahara complex. Famous for its lavish banquet halls, it was a long-respected center for galas and conventions held by companies of a more prestigious bracket in Japan. At this moment, Representative Tatsu was refining plans for his upcoming Prime Ministerial campaign, likely regarding some kind of tax reformation in order to put more substantial power into law enforcement, as this was his largest talking point politically.</p><p>About twenty feet away and eight feet below the ledge the agent stood on a window five feet tall and three feet across. He ran over the plan in his head one more time, then placed a finger to his ear.</p><p>"Ready to execute," he said.</p><p>"Solid copy," replied a female voice with a distinctly Russian accent from the earpiece. "You're clear for infiltration."</p><p>He breathed out slowly, then ran forward with all his might until he hit the edge of the rooftop. Then he jumped, tucking in his legs as he barreled toward the window.</p><p>The glass shattered on contact and he landed on the floor on his hands and knees. Due to the protective gloves and clothing, he felt none of the glass shards he was now kneeling in. "The fuck!?" shouted a man to his right. "Who the hell are you!?"</p><p>The agent took note of the guard in a fancy suit beside him, recognized him reaching for a gun hidden in his coat, and then rushed the guard with his sword, driving it through the man's throat. Blood immediately fountained from the new wound. Another guard sounded off behind the agent, and he used the still embedded sword to wheel the man around in front of him, creating a human shield just as the second guard unloaded the first two shots. Blood splattered out from the first guard's body, and the agent then peaked over his shoulder with his pistol and shot the second guard directly through his left eye. He took the sword out of the first guard's throat, and both guards collapsed to the ground.</p><p>The agent's movement and reactions were automatic, reflexive. He only fully internalized what he was doing after he already done it. He sprinted down the hall with no care for sneaking, quickly stabbing or shooting anyone he saw, be it guard or servant. A waiter carrying a bottle of wine crossed his path at one point - the agent stabbed him in the gut without slowing down and kept on his way toward the main offices. The waiter was not even aware of what had happened until he was laying on the ground as his vision began to darken.</p><p>The agent came upon a large set of ornate double doors of white with violet designs. He unceremoniously kicked the doors so hard they nearly fell of their hinges, greeted by the sight of seven guards surrounding a large dining table. Tatsu cowered at the far end of the table, looking near ready to piss himself at the sight of the agent. As the guards began to draw their weapons, the agent shot down two of them, then jumped onto the table in the confusion. He leaped from the raised table and came down upon another one of the guards, stabbing him through the heart before turning his head and shooting another.</p><p>Four guards were now dead, and the other three were about to attack. Two drew knives from their coats, while the other took out a pistol as he escorted Tatsu to the adjacent room. The two knife-wielders rushed the agent, who deftly parried the first strike before digging his sword into the arm of the second guard. He howled in pain before the agent removed the sword and embedded it in the man's skull. His eyes rolled back as his tear ducts and ears started to bleed.</p><p>The first guard was shocked still by the show of brutality just long enough for the agent to kick him to the ground, where he proceeded to open the guard's throat with his sword, leaving the agent the only man left alive in the room.</p><p>"You cocksucker!" shouted the last guard from the next room over. "Whoever you are, you'll pay for that!" The agent took out his gun and reloaded with one of the spare clips he carried and hid behind the doorway leading to the next room. Holding the pistol in his left hand and the sword in his right, he ran his thumb along the pistol's safety slowly, plotting his next move. His breathing was rhythmic, shallow, calm. "Come out and die, you bastard!" shouted the last guard.</p><p>The agent muscles tensed as he finally moved. From his advantaged viewing angle, he shot out the light illuminating the room, covering it in darkness. The agent rolled into the room and stopped at a prone position amidst the confusion and fired his gun without aiming, simply pointing it in the general direction of where he expected the guard to be based on the following the sound of his speech.</p><p>He hit his mark, though only in the right arm. The guard recoiled back with a pained hiss before blindfiring toward the grounded agent. This time, it was the agent who was hit, grazed on his shoulder by the bullet. The reinforced jacket blocked the full strength of the bullet, but he still felt like he had been hit by a lead pipe, eliciting a repressed groan from him. However, he recovered faster than the guard, and now with a perfect angle to see from, the agent got to a kneeling position and shot the guard in the chest three times.</p><p>Blood poured from the new holes in his body and the guard fell to the ground face down, revealing Representative Tatsu cowering behind him. The old man, face wrinkled and beard white, fell onto his back in terror at the thin framed dark assassin that was slowly walking toward him like a nightmare come to life. Tatsu began silently praying to any god he could think of as the figure loomed over him like a demon. The assassin put away his weapons and seemed to scrutinize the old man for a moment.</p><p>"W-well?" Tatsu sputtered fearfully. "Are you not here to kill me? Go on! Get it over with! I've already called the police, they'll be hear any minute!" The agent did not answer, but instead reached behind him and produced a rope from under his jacket. "W-what is that for?"</p><p>The assassin looked to the rope, and then to the old man. He spoke in a cold, slow voice, as if his very words were that of an omen of death. "To provide an example."</p><p>Tatsu's eyes widened and he tried to crawl away in fear from the assassin before he was suddenly pinned to the ground. He screamed as excruciating pain shot up his right leg as the assassin pinned him down by driving his blade through the man's flesh. Tatsu tried to fight against the pain and flee still, but the agent began to forcefully wrap the rope around the man's neck like a barn animal. He tightened the rope to the point that Tatsu's neck almost broke right there, exhibiting far greater strength than the assassin's thin frame indicated. Tatsu sputtered and tried to cry out as his throat was slowly crushed by the rope's pressure.</p><p>Then the assassin walked to the window and began securing the rope on the sill.</p><p>Once the rope was secured, the assassin removed the sword from Tatsu's leg as the politician begged and blubbered, but to no avail. The assassin dragged his writhing body to the window, and Tatsu saw the beautiful skyline of Sotenbori laid out before him.</p><p>"You... dishonor your whole clan... and yourself. We will not… be intimidated… by you…"</p><p>The agent slammed his face against the glass, cracking it and cutting the man's face in eight place. "Then why are you crying?"</p><p>Tatsu felt the assassin kick him in the back, and he fell forward to the sound of glass shattering. He was not even able to scream before the rope caught eight feet below the window. He heard something like bones snapping before his vision faded. The last thing he saw was his beloved city, lit up like a starry sky. The last thing he heard was screams from somewhere below…</p><p>The agent looked over his handiwork for a moment, then put his finger to his ear as he began walking away, the sound of sirens beginning to cut through the deathly still air. "Verona, I'm done here."</p><p>
  <strong>[Reviews are always encouraged.]</strong>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4: When Opportunity Knocks</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Chapter Four</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>When Opportunity Knocks</strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>               The bright morning sun illuminated the pictures in Sae’s hands perfectly.  Each was about one second of time from when the window to Representative Tatsu’s penthouse shattered to when he hung lifeless from the ledge.           Mack, a tall, extremely built black man and contact of Sae’s, looked over his pictures with her as she pulled them out of the file.  Under the evocative photos was three pages of notes meticulously detailing everything Mack had seen the previous night.  Sae glanced at them, though noticed not much more than she was already aware of, until she came upon notes regarding the assassin.</p><p>               “Look at this one,” Mack indicated to the last photo.  A silhouette of a lean, athletic man was rushing across a rooftop not far above the angle at which Mack took the photo.  Sae scrutinized every detail she could, barely hearing Mack explain what he had seen.  “I only saw him for a few seconds as I was taking photos of a restaurant.  I only was able to get that one picture before he jumped out of sight.  The guy was like lightning, let me tell ya.  I think I was the only person on the street that saw him.”</p><p>               “I didn’t think yakuza employed ninjas,” Sae deadpanned.</p><p>               “Me neither, but there he is.  God knows what kind of training he’s gone through to be that skilled.  I mean, he killed over ten guys in five minutes.  Yakuza don’t do that kind of shit.”</p><p>               “Well, it couldn’t have been a triad.  Tatsu had nothing to do with the Chinese that we’re aware of.”</p><p>               “But he was militant against the yakuza in Kansai.”</p><p>               “Exactly,” Sae nodded.  “He was looking to improve the legislative power against organized crime in Kansai, even with nearly forty percent of people disagreeing with such actions.”  Sae shook her head, pursing her lips.  “It still shocks me how many people think the yakuza are the <em>good guys</em>.”</p><p>               “C’mon, it’s a lot more complicated than that.  Many people see them as more local, hometown assistance, ya know?  Seems like for every one person who hates the yakuza, there’s another who was saved by them.”</p><p>               “One good deed doesn’t redeem a man of a lifetime of crime.  And what if those good deeds were accomplished through illegal means.”</p><p>               Mack looked away, lighting a cigarette.  “Just playing devil’s advocate, Nijima,” he said.  “Anyway, you satisfied with what you got though.”</p><p>               Looking over the file again, Sae nodded slowly.  “Yeah, I’m satisfied.”  She then reached into her pocket and pulled out a wad of two hundred thousand yen, handing it to Mack.</p><p>               The photographer ran his fingers along the wad of cash slowly twice, as if counting to make sure the amount was correct.  Sae continued to pour over the photos as her contact spoke up.  “What do you plan on doing with these?  Going hunting?”</p><p>               “You don’t believe I’m just a fan of your work?”</p><p>               “Nope.  I do believe, however, that you’ve got something interesting cooking in that head of yours.”</p><p>               “I always do.  It’s a large part of how I got so good at my job.  I’m always thinking.”</p><p>               “And what are you thinking about doing with my photos?”</p><p>               Sae did not respond, but instead simply leaned against the wall behind her and looked down the other end of the street, as if watching for passersby.</p><p>               Mack did not press the matter further.  “Your business is always appreciated,” he smirked at her, nodding.  “But isn’t it a bit… strange that you preach about good deeds through illegal means, and then take my photos and notes behind your boss’s back?”</p><p>               “Yup,” Sae snapped back.  “I completely agree.”</p><p>               Mack whistled awkwardly, taking a step back.  “There’s that biting realism.  It’s always fun to see for myself instead of over the phone.”</p><p>               “Don’t you have a plane to catch?” Sae asked in a deflective way.</p><p>               “I do, though I was hoping to have a reason to cancel it.  You know, a bit of wine and dine like last time?” Mack raised an eyebrow, giving her a sideways glance.</p><p>               Images of their unexpectedly romantic night flashed through Sae’s mind.  What had started as a routine drop-off on a particularly bad day had turned into a one night stand in a matter of hours.  She still kicked herself over being so weak, so susceptible to that little bit of attention when she had been so depressed, but she knew Mack.  She knew he was a good man, and he had no desire to hurt her.  However, she also knew that it had been just that: one night, nothing more.</p><p>               “Sorry, Mack, I can’t.  I’ve got work to do tonight.  I appreciate the thought though, really.”  Normally such pleasantries were lies to get suitors off her back.  This was not one of those times.</p><p>               As if Mack could sense her honesty, he nodded slowly and took a step back.  “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”  He took another puff of his cigarette.  “Well, I hope work goes well for ya, at least.  And thanks for the consistent business,” he nodded to her with a smile.  “You ever need any more pictures, just call.”</p><p>               “I know, thank you,” she gave a soft smile back.  “Safe travels, to wherever you’re off to next.”</p><p>               “The Netherlands, actually.  Got a real itch to go into the hills, take some landscape shots.  It’s been years since I’ve been there and I wanna see if my old photo spots are still as beautiful as they were.”</p><p>               “I’ll be waiting to see what you get.”</p><p>               “Thanks, Sae.  You’ll be the first.”  Mack blew her a kiss and turned on his heel, walking down the street and whistling to himself.</p><p>               The policewoman watched him walk off as she lit her own cigarette.  She continued to look over the photos, even though she was sure she had extracted every usable detail she could from them.  The ability to focus so heavily on her job once again was… comforting, until that focus was broken by a woman’s voice sounding off to her left.</p><p>               “Is he gone?” said the woman.  Sae turned her head to see a woman about her age leaning against the corner of her apartment building.  The woman had a round face and large eyes framed by a short bobcut.  A camera hung from her neck in front of a casual, colorful tee shirt atop her bell-bottom jeans.  The woman appeared very excited to see Sae, and equally relieved to be able to step out into the open.</p><p>               “When did you get here, Ohya?” the policewoman asked casually.</p><p>               The woman called Ohya chuckled to herself before responding.  “I was a bit too excited to get your call this morning, so I rushed on over.  Didn’t expect the traffic to be so light, so I made better time than I thought I would.  When I got here, I heard you talking with your guy and hid; didn’t know how sensitive the meeting was.”</p><p>               Ichiko Ohya: full-time investigative reporter, part-time fashionista, part-time barfly.  Known throughout Tokyo to be as dedicated to her journalism as she was to her drinking contests, Ohya had quite a colorful yet positive reputation among the pleasure districts of the metropolis.  Her stories centering around organized crime and the goings-on of the city’s nightlife were highly respected, and thus was how she drew Sae’s attention.</p><p>               Their business relationship would then be finalized over a chance meeting at one of Shinjuku’s famous bars.</p><p>               “He’s just a really good photographer, that’s all.  You know that.”  Sae motioned for Ohya to come closer, and the woman quickly came to her side.  “You didn’t need to hide from him.”</p><p>               “The fact that you’re not at all afraid of his kind is even more concerning.”</p><p>               “How do you mean?” Sae asked incredulously.</p><p>               Ohya leaned against the wall beside Sae, crossing her arms.  “This isn’t exactly <em>legal</em>, Sae, right?”</p><p>               “Of course, it is.  I’m using an informant on official police business.  The evidence is going straight to the authorities for the advancement of justice.  I’m simply utilizing my level of influence to keep this information in the right hands.”</p><p>               Ohya was about to object, but stopped herself as she pulled out her own cigarette.  Sae took the liberty of lighting it for her.  “Makes sense, I guess,” she admitted slowly.</p><p>               “What are you so concerned about, anyway?  This is what you wanted: I get you a good scoop, you use it to put a spotlight on those in the justice system.”</p><p>               “And don’t think I’m not thankful, because I am.  Were it not for this stuff, the <em>good</em> shit, my boss would have me running tabloid bullcrap about celebrity love-lives.  It’s just that, well…”</p><p>               “What is it?” Sae pressed, growing annoyed with her friend.</p><p>               “Sae, this is an <em>assassination</em>.  Normally, it’s loan sharks, or a corporate scandal, or something like that.  People <em>died</em> last night.  Lots of people.  Call me crazy, but I don’t wanna get caught in the crossfire in case whoever did this wants to tie up loose ends, because they obviously have the means to do it.”</p><p>               “Ohya, I promise,” Sae put a hand on her shoulder reassuredly, “everything is going to be okay, for both of us.  We’re doing good work, but there’s no way anyone can trace the origin of the photos or how you and I got them.  Mack’s on his way to the Netherlands, for God’s sake.  All you have to do now is <em>try</em>; try to get the news to report on this incident <em>hard</em>, but without inciting a panic.”</p><p>               “I know, I know,” Ohya started to become more exasperated.  “Just forgive me for being a bit nervous given the circumstances.  We’ve never done anything like this, Sae.”</p><p>               “But we’re still able to do it, even with things escalating.”  Sae blew out one more puff of smoke before putting her cigarette out.  She then looked to the intrepid reporter.  “If you can’t get them to report on it, then that’s fine.  I just need to know that we tried.  People are far too accepting of the yakuza in this town, and they need to be woken up to how dangerous these people can really be.  Every file and photo I pass to you brings us one step closer to that, even if it may only be one person at a time.” </p><p>Sae paused, her expression growing more dour.  “The fact that Kamoshida was killed by yakuza has only increased their reputation in Kamurocho.  We tried to repress the rumors, but somehow they still managed to slip through the cracks, likely by those who perpetrated the hit in the first place.  The public is beginning to believe we were shown up at our own game, Ohya.  That kind of mentality is unendingly dangerous.”</p><p>               Ohya nodded slowly, putting a hand on her camera like a security blanket.  “I believe you’re right, you know that.  But <em>I</em> know what can happen when someone gets in too deep chasing those with this level of influence.  So promise me,” Ohya looked to her friend with a seriousness in her glare that the normally fun and flighty woman never showed, “if things ever get dangerous for either of us, we back off cold turkey.  No ifs, no ands, no buts.  I’m not gonna let another one of my friends end up in prison, or face down up the river.”</p><p>               Sae raised an eyebrow toward Ohya, both surprised and impressed by her outburst, though she could not say she failed to understand her concern.  “I appreciate the concern, Ohya, and I share it.  I’m not putting you in any danger, I can assure you.  This is police business, and therefore you are under protection of the force.”</p><p>               “Is there an official file that says that?” </p><p>Reluctantly, Sae was unable to respond. </p><p>Ohya sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.  “Look, I’ll do my best with this stuff, promise.  I’m just making sure you’re keeping your nose at least mostly out of trouble.  You’re doing good work, yes, but it can still be dangerous if you dig too deep.  Remember, this is an –”</p><p>“Assassin, yes,” Sae interrupted, “I’m aware.  But at the end of the day, he’s still just a yakuza with a higher paygrade.  He and his employers must be brought to justice, and this will at least help sway public opinion in Tokyo and Osaka if we can get it on the air.”</p><p>“You’re not curious as to why this attack happened in the first place?”</p><p>Sae looked down the street, away from her friend.  She finally spoke, her voice as icy as he demeanor.  “No, I’m not.”</p><p>Ohya shrugged her shoulders, only slightly surprised by the hardened policewoman’s response.  “Well then, if I get some dirt on whoever did this, guess I just won’t tell ya then.”</p><p>“Don’t get cheeky, Ohya,” Sae smirked back at her.  “Just because I don’t deem it immediately important to my operation, doesn’t mean I wouldn’t listen if you did have something interesting to tell.”</p><p>“Ah, that’s more like it!  Now get to work, lazybones!” Ohya chided her sarcastically.  “I got work to do myself with this bundle of goodies.”</p><p>“Well, call me if anything comes of it.  Just make sure you’re sober when you do.”</p><p>Ohya’s excited smile turned to a sour pout.  “It was only one time, god,” she mumbled.</p><p>With that, Sae made her way to the police station as she did every other morning.  Apart from witnessing two cars nearly collide when one made a rolling stop onto a busy intersection, nothing of interest or import occurred on her commute.</p><p>Upon arriving at the station, she was immediately directed to Commissioner Murakata’s office by Kenjiro, who seemed about as unphased by the news as he was by anything else.  Sae often wondered what it would look like for the gentle giant to actually get outwardly invested in something.  A ghost of a smile creeped to her face thinking about how that would hypothetically look like when she opened the door to the lavish office, only to gaze upon Murakata and Akechi engaging in subdued conversation.</p><p>“Ah, Nijima,” said Murakata, glancing her way.  “I hope the morning finds you well.”</p><p>Confused, Sae looked between the old man and the young one.  The first thing she noticed in the bright morning light pouring through the window behind them was what seemed to be prominent, dark bags under Akechi’s eyes.  Adding to his tired demeanor was a prominent slouch contrasting his normally stiff, upright posture. </p><p>“Sae-san, good morning” Akechi greeted her warmly with a respectful bow. </p><p>“Good morning to both of you,” said Sae slowly.  “I was told you wanted to see me, sir?” she addressed Murakata.</p><p>“Yes, quite.  Akechi-san is here regarding the same matter, actually.  We had only just started discussing it when you arrived.”</p><p>“This matter is?”</p><p>To Sae’s surprise, Akechi was the one to speak up next instead of his superior.  “Sae-san, I understand that last night’s… incident may be at the forefront of your thoughts right now, but recently I have come across some rather urgent, and disturbing, leads here in Kamurocho.”</p><p>Sae  raised an eyebrow at the younger man.  Normally, Akechi was a light-hearted, almost obnoxiously optimistic individual.  But the young man’s tone, his expression, his gaze, were all of the most dire seriousness.  “What have you found, Akechi?”</p><p>“I was just explaining to Murakata-san that I have come onto the trail of a prominent group of… well… God, it truly is despicable.  So much so that I seem to be at a loss for the proper words,” he chuckled awkwardly.</p><p>“You were present for the Kamoshida case, Akechi,” Sae responded coldly.  “I doubt this surpasses that in terms of grotesquery.”</p><p>“Even so, forgive me for maintaining a bit of my innocence, Sae-san.  At least compared to yourself.”</p><p>Sae was trying to find the words to object to such entirely erroneous yet almost admittedly true claims when Murakata spurred Akechi on, saying, “Simply tell her what you told me, kid.  You already made it through this once.”</p><p>“Right.  Of course, sir,” Akechi said almost sheepishly.</p><p><em>Still a kiss-ass</em>, thought Sae.  <em>Better than a dumbass, I guess.</em></p><p>“Well, as I was saying,” Akechi continued, “I have zeroed in on the trail of a prominent… organ trafficking ring, Sae-san.”</p><p>The fact that Sae was more interested than frightened by the admittance disturbed her to some degree.  She did not say anything, but instead let the younger man speak uninterrupted.</p><p>“There was a recent kidnapping reported about three days ago, originating near Shinjuku.  Given that it occurred after Kamoshida’s demise and the dissolving of his business, we ruled that out as an immediate possibility.  Perhaps a remnant of his group, yes, but when I investigated further, I found that to not be the case.  You see, a child was involved in the kidnapping as well.”</p><p>“A child?” Sae asked, growing even more concerned.</p><p>“Yes, a child.  Kamoshida was not known to have used children for his projects.  Teenagers in rare cases, yes, but the primary victim’s young daughter seems to have been kidnapped as well.  I’ve tracked their movements over the last couple days, and I am confident they will be holding up in a warehouse near the docks.  Tomorrow, Sae-san, you and I will be attempting to intercept their drop-off, and save the kidnapped victims.  I personally requested to Murakata-san that you go with me tomorrow.”</p><p>Sae instinctively took a step back, processing Akechi’s speech.  Her mind reeled with a hundred questions, a hundred responses, but she narrowed such a long list down to the absolute essentials.  “How did you come about this information, Akechi?”</p><p>“My contacts throughout Tokyo informed me that this ring may be present.  I had only heard of them through the grapevine before, given that they operate primarily in China and more isolated parts of Japan, such as the far reaches of Hokkaido.  But the possibility that such barbarians were about was more than enough to spring me into action.  I was remised to allow such an unholy maniac like Kamoshida to run rampant in the city under our protection.  I will not allow such a thing to happen again.”</p><p>Akechi’s tone was entirely serious; he glared down his nose at Sae, as if affirming to her his heroically ironclad resolve.  The young man spoke slowly, precisely, enunciating and accentuating every critical detail. </p><p>Sae turned to the Commissioner.  “And you have already approved this operation, sir?”</p><p>“I have, yes.  As Akechi so eloquently put it, I will not allow this subhuman filth to run freely among the good people of this city.  Nothing and no one puts our <em>children</em> in danger on my watch.  I will have a proper briefing file prepared by the end of the day.  Until then, Akechi-san will be at your disposal regarding any information you may need.”</p><p>Sae looked back to Akechi, appearing almost shocked.  “I wish you would have informed me sooner, Akechi.  I could have aided your investigation.”</p><p>“I’m very sorry, Sae-san,” he replied very genuinely.  “I actually had considered enlisting your help, but everything happened so quickly, and you were still investigating the Kamoshida incident while I had no concrete leads.  It was not until very recently, as I said, that we came across anything actionable.  To make up for this, I would be honored were you to accept the position of operational command.”</p><p>Sae crossed her arms, glaring daggers at both men.  “This sounds like a military operation.  Are you sure this isn’t out of our jurisdiction?”</p><p> “We don’t have time to call in any higher support,” said Murakata slowly.  “We must act quickly before more innocents are subjected to their barbarism.  I, however, will make absolutely sure that this operation goes through the necessary channels before commencing.  That part, you may leave to me.  The part that will get on the news, however,” Murakata looked Sae in the eyes, the both of them knowing exactly what he meant by speaking with such gravitas, “will be in your hands, Nijima -- if you choose to accept it.”</p><p>Sae looked away from the men, weighing her options.  She was not much of a God-fearing woman, but what was happening before her eyes seemed almost too good to be a coincidence.  Just less than an hour earlier, she had aided a journalist in gaining information to put yakuza reputation squarely in the public’s crossfire, and now here she was being offered command over a heroic operation to do just that again, by her own hands.  After being shown up at her own game, she felt… enticed.  While her primary concern was, of course, the safeguarding of the citizens and seeing this scum brought to justice, there was a small part of her that felt vindicated by the chance to show these criminals that there is still strength left in the law.</p><p>Sae raised her eyes once again, meeting the gazes of the men before her.  Slowly, she nodded.</p><p>“You don’t have to come if you don’t fully support the case,” said Akechi.  “I am certain it will be… dangerous.”</p><p>“I know,” said Sae, her tone becoming dark.  “When do we start?”</p><p>…</p><p>Whisking the toothbrush around in his mouth, Akira stared into the mirror before him.  He stared at his reflection, taking in how tired he looked.  His eyes drooped, his vision was slightly out of focus, his body was stiff and his joints ached.  He had tried to go to sleep without the aid of alcohol the previous night, in spite of the stress he felt regarding the assassinations and the discussion he had with Sojiro regarding his parents.  He estimated he had only gotten about four and a half hours of sleep in total. </p><p>At least he had managed to get some breakfast in him.</p><p>He spat the toothpaste out into the sink and wiped off his face before slowly donning some jeans and a plain gray tee shirt.  He was not entirely sure what time it was anymore, nor how long he had spent showering and getting ready for the day.  Akira knew he had nothing in particular to do until the evening, so it did not really matter anyway by his reckoning.  Sojiro was gone, Ryuji was off doing a delivery for Iwai, leaving Akira with a day to do more or less anything he liked. </p><p>To his increasing chagrin, days like this were becoming more and more frequent.  Akira would be sent out to work most nights, but in the day, he would be stuck inside, watching television, eating room service and just lazing about.  Occasionally, he would hit the town and do some shopping, but Sojiro actively discouraged him from doing so, the reasoning revolving around how it would be poor judgement to let the boy become more known to the public than he already was.  Akira did not argue with his assessment, but he still concluded that the isolation did little for his physical, or mental, wellbeing.</p><p>Akira quietly hummed a tune to himself along with the radio playing softly in the background as he stepped out of the bathroom, combing a knot out of his hair with his fingers.</p><p>Then the phone rang.  With a groan, Akira walked to the phone to pick it up.  “Yeah, this is Akira,” he said with no consideration for pleasantries.</p><p>“Kurusu-san,” said the receptionist, “there is a guest in the lobby to see you.  I was wondering if I would be able to send her your way.”</p><p>Akira paused, suddenly feeling more awake.  “Her?”</p><p>“Yes, sir.  Takamaki-san is her name.  Are you available to see her, sir?  She specifically requested that she may be sent to your room.”</p><p><em>Ann.</em>  “Yeah, send her on up,” Akira said quickly. </p><p>“Of course, sir,” said the receptionist.  “Thank you very much.”</p><p>The receptionist then hung up.  Akira was left utterly stunned at what he had just heard.  <em>Ann’s back</em>, he thought.  <em>And she wanted to see me?</em>  Akira hung the phone up, a feeling of excitement welling within him until he reflexively looked around to make sure everything was clean and tidy.  Upon brief examination, he determined that the state of the room was apt.  It was not like he would have time to thoroughly clean before she ascended the elevator anyway.</p><p>Only then did he realize that he was wearing short sleeves, and that his scars were completely exposed.  The young man knew that Ann was already aware of what he had done following Kamoshida, but he felt he did not presently have the energy to have <em>that </em>conversation again.  In a flash, Akira ran to his room and threw on a long sleeve tee faster than he had ever dressed himself in his life, even when he was late for school.  He then ran back out into the foyer, controlling his breath and trying to calm himself so as not to look like he had just gone for a run in the time it took Ann to ride the elevator.</p><p>The elevator bell sounded off, pulling Akira’s attention toward it entirely.  The doors slid open, and out stepped the young woman.  Her hair was down, flowing past her shoulders in waves like those that crashed against the beach near his home.  She wore a casual yet trendy outfit as she carried an expensive pink purse over her shoulder.  Their eyes met, Akira’s heart beat slightly faster as he took in the fullness of her beauty, for that was the only way he could hope to describe her.  No fancy clothes, no abundance of makeup, yet Akira was left still with only way of describing his friend.</p><p><em>Beautiful</em>.</p><p>“Hi,” Ann said quietly.</p><p>“Hey,” Akira replied, his voice sounding low, almost hoarse.</p><p>Ann put her bag down on the table in front of her, then walked around it toward him.  She stood in front of Akira, looking up to him as if silently examining his face.  Akira did not know whether or not this was a bad thing, whether she was judging him or looking for a way to begin interrogating him on what he had been doing the past two weeks, but he still could not find the strength to stop her.</p><p>Her presence was oddly soothing.</p><p>Ann’s expression changed subtly, shifting from inquisitive to… sad.  She seemed sad as she looked upon his face.  Her eyes traveled down his body before settling on his arms for obvious reasons.  But instead of asking him about his scars, she simply met his gaze again.  “You look tired,” she said, almost whispering the words.</p><p>“I had a late night.”</p><p>“I can tell,” she nodded slowly.  “Have you eaten anything?”</p><p>“Yeah, why?”</p><p>Ann turned away, taking a seat at the table.  “Just checking.”</p><p>“What, do I look sick or something?”</p><p>“No, not really.  Honestly, you just look completely exhausted.”</p><p>Akira took a seat beside her, saying, “I told you, I had a late night.”</p><p>“Doing what?”</p><p>“I was… out on the town.  Sojiro and I ended up getting a bite to eat.”</p><p>“Probably didn’t end up being a good decision, huh?  You know, with the news.”</p><p>“Yeah, it broke while we were eating.  Really messed up shit, but it’s far away from here.  We’re safe.”</p><p>“You sound very confident in that,” Ann looked at him sideways as if not entirely believing him.</p><p>“I am, really.”  Akira paused for a moment, thinking it best to divert the subject.  “What are you doing here anyway, Ann?  I honestly didn’t expect you to ever want to come back to Kamurocho after what all went down.”</p><p>“I got a modeling gig for a local clothing outlet here, actually.  We wrapped up the first shoot yesterday evening, it was fun.  I got another shoot in a couple hours, but figured I’d come up and see if you were in.  But, yeah, I really had a hard time accepting the gig, given where it is.  But I can use all the exposure I can get, and I figured it would be a good opportunity to… check on you.  And Ryuji, of course,” she added quickly.</p><p>“Well, I appreciate it,” Akira nodded.  “Still was shocked when the receptionist called me.”</p><p>“Pleasantly so?” Ann smirked at him.</p><p>“Entirely,” Akira returned the grin.  “I may not sound… or look like it, but I am glad to see you, Ann.  Things have been dull without you around here.”</p><p>“Oh, c’mon, Ryuji surely gives you more than enough excitement.”  Her tone was becoming slightly more upbeat, her eyes meeting his more often.</p><p>“He does, but we mostly interact on business.  Only gone out drinking a couple times since the whole Kamoshida thing.  We’ve both been pretty busy.”  Feeling as if he was then hit in the face with a brick, a new conversational topic dawned on him.  “How’s Shiho been?  Have you gotten to talk to her.</p><p>“She’s actually doing better, yeah.  She’s still with her grandparents in Osaka, but I talked to her a couple days ago on the phone, and she said she’ll be moving back to Shibuya in a couple weeks.  She’s still a bit rattled, but I was so happy to hear her back to her normal self so quickly.  She… usually needs more time when something reminds her of past trauma.  That’s just how she is.  I guess she really has gotten a lot stronger.”</p><p>“I don’t blame her, after what she went through.  I’m really glad that she’s okay though.  Next time you talk to her, tell her I’m glad she’s doing well.”</p><p>“I will, promise,” Ann smiled.  Her gaze then travelled upward along his face, inspecting something above his eyes.  “Hey, Akira, when was the last time you got your hair cut?”</p><p>“Wait, huh?”</p><p>“Your hair.  It’s looking pretty scraggly, if I may be so blunt.  When was the last time you cut it?”</p><p>“Um, about a month and a half ago now, I guess.”</p><p>Ann nodded, rubbing her chin thoughtfully.  “That’s what I guessed.  Well, if you’d like, we could continue this conversation while I trim your hair a bit.  Not to be rude, but it kinds needs it,” Ann smiled at him.</p><p>Akira was entirely surprised by her candor.  Self-consciously, he ran his fingers through his hair as if to confirm for himself that what she had said was true.  He had known for about a week that his hair was getting longer, especially by how his bangs now fell over his eyes when he neglected to gel his hair.  “You got experience with this kind of thing, Ann?”</p><p>“I may not be a salon beautician, but I can spruce it up for you no problem,” she nodded.  “And my rates are unbeatable for friends.”</p><p>“How much would that rate be?”</p><p>“First one’s free every time,” Ann smirked, walking past Akira toward the bathroom. </p><p>With a shrug, Ann followed her, taking a chair with him.  The main bathroom was more than large enough to house the chair comfortably, and Akira took a seat slowly.  He had always been very proud of his full, thick black hair – one of the primary sources of compliments he tended to receive.  And this sense of pride made him very particular about who he would allow to cut his hair, on top of making him secretly terrified of ever losing his hair to male balding.  While Ann was untested by him, she seemed confident as she gathered up the necessary tools: scissors, an electric razor, pomade, hairclips.</p><p>“I’m not gonna do much styling,” she said.  “I’m not <em>that</em> experienced with men’s hair yet, but I can still shape it up to look less shaggy.”</p><p>“What?  It doesn’t make me look like a rock star?” Akira joked lightly.</p><p>“It does, just not the type of rock star you want to look like.  You’re starting to look like one of those underground druggy types,” Ann ran her hands through his hair like an experienced stylist, getting a feel for thickness and texture.  She whisked the layers around, travelling from the top of Akira’s head to his neck.</p><p>“Maybe I’m going for that look.  Ever think about that?”</p><p>“No, because I know you’re not,” she quipped back, smiling confidently. </p><p>Akira could not argue with her assessment.</p><p>“Now, let’s spin you around and wet your hair a bit.  Won’t need to do much since I can feel it’s already damp.”</p><p>They did as she said, holding Akira’s head under the faucet.  Ann moved his hair about to help the water get deep into his layers, the movements acting as a slow, soft head massage for the man.  He closed his eyes both to keep water from getting in them and to simply enjoy the feeling of her soft hands playing with his hair.</p><p>He had nearly forgotten how much he liked it when a girl played with his hair, as it had been so long since such a thing happened last.  The feeling was calming, soothing; it quieted his distracted, addled mind.</p><p>“God, your hair is so thick,” said Ann, lightly grabbing a handful.  “I mean, you obviously have a lot of hair, but I didn’t know it was <em>this </em>much hair!”</p><p>“Is that a good thing?”</p><p>“Yeah!  Most guys don’t have much hair to play with, they usually keep it short or just don’t have a lot of hair to begin with.  But Akira,” she turned off the faucet, starting to dry his hair with a towel, “you have a ton of hair, and it’s really healthy too!  It’s soft, smooth, lush… I know lots of girls I model with that would kill for your hair!”</p><p>Akira smirked proudly as he looked into the mirror, seeing Ann admire his hair as she dried it.  “Believe it or not, every stylist I’ve ever had has said more or less the same thing.”</p><p>“I’m not surprised.  Your hair is honestly beautiful.”</p><p>“Wow,” Akira looked away sheepishly, “thanks, Ann,” he said in a hushed voice.</p><p>“Just calling it as I see it,” Ann smiled to him in the mirror.  “Now, as much as it will pain me to do so, it’s time to get some of this bulk trimmed up,” she held out to handfuls on either side of his head, fully showing Akira just how much his hair had really grown.  “This won’t take long, promise.”</p><p>“I’m not going anywhere, it’s alright.  I got time.”</p><p>Ann picked up the thin pair of scissors and started to snip at the top of Akira’s hair tepidly, getting a feel for how best to trim it.  “You mean you’re free today?” she asked.</p><p>“Until tonight, yeah.  Got an important errand this evening, but until then I was mostly just gonna be working out, maybe hitting up a store or something.”</p><p>“And this errand… is for Sojiro?”</p><p>“…yeah.”</p><p>Ann nodded slowly, picking up a hairclip to hold some of the bulk back as she trimmed the back of his head.  “Why haven’t you gone home yet, Akira?”</p><p>While his eyes had hitherto been watching her in the mirror, Akira’s gaze fell to his side at her question.  “I have a job to do, I guess.”</p><p>The rhythmic snipping sounds of the scissors slowed slightly as Ann tried to meet his gaze, though was unable to as the young man seemed to be avoiding that very thing.  “You guess?”</p><p>“Yeah, basically.  It’s complicated.”</p><p>“I’m sure it is, but… what?  Is he keeping you hostage here or something?”</p><p>“No, not at all.”</p><p>Ann stopped trimming his hair for a moment.  “Then why can’t you go home?”</p><p>Akira pursed his lips, glaring to the floor before meeting Ann’s eyes once again in the mirror.  “Ann, I’ve killed a man.”</p><p>Ann’s concerned gaze grew angry in the blink of an eye.  “And saved many lives in the process, including mine.”</p><p>“No, I didn’t,” Akira said sternly.  “He was already taken care of, he just taunted me into… finishing it.”</p><p>“And what?  Do you honestly expect yourself to have acted perfectly rationally in a bad situation like that?”</p><p>“No… maybe, I – I don’t know,” he gritted his teeth.</p><p>Calming herself a bit, Ann lowered her hands to her sides, looking at her friend in the mirror.  He was pale, his eyes were dark, and she could have sword his cheeks were slightly gaunt compared to when she last saw him.  She was frustrated at his obstinance, yes, but far moreso did she pity the situation he found himself in.  “Akira, may I see your wrists?”</p><p>Akira’s eyes widened in a way almost fearful.  “What?” he whispered.</p><p>“Your wrists.  I’d like to see them.”</p><p>“Ann, I don’t know about this.”</p><p>“Akira, please,” she pleaded with him, putting her hands on his shoulders.  Her touch sent a tiny jolt through his body, and while he pondered on the many reasons he loathed the idea of her seeing his scars, he figured that she had already seen them before, so what harm could one more time do?</p><p>Wordlessly, Akira pulled back his sleeves, letting Ann see the scars over his shoulders.  He watched her in the mirror as she studied his arms, and he felt disgusted by the image of this beautiful, kind young woman looking upon the reminders of his greatest personal and moral failure.  That disgust showed on his face as his expression contorted into one of sadness and remorse.</p><p>Ann did not gasp at the sight though; she hardly emoted at all.  As her face was right next to his, she looked over every detail of his scars, taking note of how some were fresher than others.  “Some of these are new,” she said.</p><p>“By about a week.”</p><p>“How many times have you done this?”</p><p>“Once since you left.  About five days ago.”</p><p>“That’s good.  I’m glad it’s only once.  I wish it was zero times, but still.”</p><p>Akira met her eyes once again in the mirror.  “You’re taking this rather well.”</p><p>“I hate that you’ve done this, but it looks like it hasn’t gotten much worse.  These new scars aren’t nearly as deep as the… first time.”</p><p>“Honestly, I was too drunk to do it right last time.  But it was the fact that I was drunk that got me to do it in the first place.”</p><p>“I see.”  Ann crossed her arms over her belly pensively.  “Do you remember what happened the first time?  When I found you?”</p><p>“Only a little bit… just some images, sounds, feelings.  Not much, honestly.”</p><p>Ann nodded sadly.  “I remember all of it.”</p><p>Akira raised an eyebrow her way.  “What do you remember?”</p><p>Ann breathed out slowly, deeply, before speaking.  “I remember seeing you standing over the sink, the blood coating the basin.  You said something about a monster, but I was honestly so shocked that I didn’t hear it clearly.  I tried to pull you away from the sink but you got… <em>defensive</em>, angry.  It took me a couple minutes to coax you out of the bathroom.  When I did, you were in such a daze – you were mostly just mumbling to yourself as I wrapped your arms in wet washcloths, cleaned your wrists with rubbing alcohol.  Occasionally, you’d talk again about a monster, and sometimes said something about your family, especially your mom.  You were apologizing over and over to her, you barely even noticed I was there until I hugged you.  Then you woke up a little bit, realized I was there…  That’s when you started crying.”</p><p>Akira blushed in both embarrassment and bafflement at her story.  “I remember parts of all that, just a few images mostly.  God, I’m so sorry for putting you through that, Ann.”</p><p>“Why?  I was trying to help.  I didn’t think any less of you, and I still don’t.  You were caught in a horrible situation and had no idea how to deal with it.”  She put her hands back on his shoulders, rubbing them lightly.  She smiled softly to him in the mirror.  “It’s alright,” she said, but then her smile faded.  Her comforting expression waned into one of grief.  “Just don’t do anything like that again.  Ever.”</p><p>Akira closed his eyes, lowering his head.  “I’ll try.”</p><p>“Try your damnedest, Akira.  And not just for me.  You think Ryuji would be any happier about it?  Or your family?  When you go home, you want to go back a proud hero.  One mistake doesn’t mean you can’t go home if your family really does love you.  You already won one battle, right?  You can win this too.  I believe in you.”</p><p>The slightest ghost of a smile appeared on Akira’s face as he listened to her words, then a full grin came after that as she hummed along to the radio.</p><p><em>“That’s why I’m easy,”</em> she sang softly as she began trimming his hair again.  <em>“Easy like Sunday morning.”  </em>Her voice crooned quietly, washing over him like a siren.  Akira’s shoulders dropped as he relaxed; he breathed slower, deeper, easier. </p><p><em>“That’s why I’m easy,”</em> he sang in turn, causing Ann to giggle.  <em>“I’m easy like Sunday morning.</em>”</p><p>They softly sang the whole rest of the song to each other, happy for the conversation to be diverted to something far more pleasant.  For the next twenty minutes, they sang along with the radio as Ann trimmed up his hair.  When she ran the last bit of gel through his locks, Akira looked in the mirror to see a much more shaped up, sleek looking version of himself staring back.  He smiled at himself, enjoying the sight. </p><p>“So, what do you think?” Ann asked, her sunny smile beaming.  “A one hundred percent improvement, right?”</p><p>“One hundred ten percent,” Akira nodded.</p><p>“Thank you!  I think you look awesome!  Real classy rock star look.  Thank you for letting me cut your hair!”</p><p>“Thank you for doing it, and doing it so well.”  He turned around in his chair, grinning up to his friend.  She looked on her handiwork with glowing pride.</p><p>“You have a really handsome face, Akira.  You don’t need to hide with your bangs.”</p><p>“I’ll remember that,” he nodded, standing to his feet.  Looking back into the mirror, he shifted his head around to take in every angle, feeling very satisfied with the man staring back at him.  So satisfied was he that Akira felt a new wave of confidence well up inside him.  “Hey, Ann?”</p><p>“What’s up?”</p><p>“When I get back from my errand tonight,” he turned around, looking her right in her big, blue eyes, “would you like to get dinner?”</p><p>Ann’s eyes widened in surprise, but the image of the man she had spruced up standing before her only made her feel more proud of her styling skills.  Her surprise turned to abject excitement.  “I’ll be waiting,” she smirked.  “Just don’t keep me waiting too long, hotshot.”</p><p>“I’ll do my best.”  Akira also did his best to hide the overly proud excitement he felt tingling in his gut.  “Now, how about some breakfast?”</p><p>With a bubbly grin, Ann made her way to the kitchen straight toward the freezer to procure some waffles, with Akira in tow.</p><p><em>Easy like Sunday morning,</em> he thought to himself.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5: Sweet Like Hellfire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Chapter Five</strong>
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  <strong>Sweet Like Hellfire</strong>
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</p><p>               The sun was setting over the Kamurocho skyline.  Pinks, oranges and blues flowed across the sky like an oil painting as Akira exited the leBlanc hotel.  Dressed in a slick black suit with a white undershirt, undoing the first two buttons to show off his collarbone and chest, he strutted outside onto the bustling sidewalk.  With his hands in his pockets, Akira made his way over to a parked limousine to his left.  To his surprise, he saw a thin framed, long-haired man in a royal violet jacket smoking a cigarette as he stared into the sky contemplatively.</p><p>               “Akechi?” Akira asked as he approached.</p><p>               Akechi turned to him with a friendly grin.  Akira noticed a golden chained necklace adorned his neck, and an equally golden watch was worn on his left wrist.  Akira had seen some gaudily dressed yakuza in the last couple weeks, but Akechi’s appearance was somewhere between a pop star and a prince.  “Ah, Kurusu-san,” Akechi nodded to him.  “Right on time, unlike our other companion.”</p><p>               “You mean Ryuji?”</p><p>               “Indeed.  I was told Sakamoto would be joining us, and I was rather intrigued to meet him.  However, he yet alludes me.  I have never met the gentleman personally, but I have been informed as to his… eccentric personality.”</p><p>               “He’s a bit hotheaded, yeah, but he’s honestly a great guy, Akechi.  He’ll be around any second –”</p><p>               “Hey, guys!” called the voice of Ryuji from down the sidewalk.  Running toward them was Akira’s friend and comrade, wearing a suit more fitting of a clubber than a traditional yakuza, especially when it came to the trilby he wore on his head and the wide chain on his neck.  Panting, Ryuji stopped right in front of them, hitting himself on the chest to catch his breath.  “Sorry for the wait, got hung up with Iwai.  Geez, I used to be able to run that distance literally no sweat back in high school,” he wheezed, forcing himself to stand straight.  “Oh, hey, Akira!  Wait, did you get a haircut today?  It’s, well, actually done for a change.”</p><p>               “I’ll ignore the last part of that comment and just say yes,” Akira said sarcastically.  Ryuji’s comment may have been scathing, but the truth often was.</p><p>               “I’ve never seen it slicked back before.  It looks goon on ya,” Ryuji gave a toothy grin and a thumbs up.</p><p>               “Glad you appreciate it,” Akira touched his hair on reflex, feeling a bit sheepish.</p><p>               “Sakamoto, I presume?” Akechi raised an eyebrow at him, almost appearing disapproving.</p><p>               “Yup, that’s me, man,” Ryuji pointed to himself with his thumb proudly.  “And I’ll bet you’re Akechi Goro then?”</p><p>               “Indeed.  I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Sakamoto-san.”  Akira noted how Akechi seemed far less enthusiastic to introduce himself to Ryuji than previously with him.  “Now, our hosts are waiting on our arrival as we speak, so shall we continue our introductions in the car?”</p><p>               “Sounds good, man,” Ryuji said casually, walking up to the door.  “Man, this is the shit!” he exclaimed as he opened the door.  I ain’t never been in a limo before!”</p><p>               “Compliments of the Kuze clan, Sakamoto,” said Akechi.</p><p>               He then looked to Akira awkwardly at their companion’s exuberance.  “Not all of us eat a dictionary for breakfast every morning, Akechi,” Akira joked at him, smirking smartly.</p><p>               “Touche, Kurusu-san,” Akechi shrugged, not at all offended by the jab at him.</p><p>               The three young men got in the limo, taking their place on the leather seating that made Akira’s wallet feel lighter in his pocket even though he was paying for none of it.  In front of them, a gangly man wearing pitch dark sunglasses at night turned around quickly to address them.  “Ready to depart?” he asked in a dark, raspy voice.</p><p>               “Indeed, Maurice,” said Akechi, looking out the window at the pedestrians across the street.  “Make it snappy, will you?”</p><p>               Maurice groaned, supposedly in agreement, and the limo pulled out of its parking spot.  Driving down the road slowly to avoid the bustling pedestrians walking about in the Kamurocho night life, the limo garnered many stares of abject envy for its lavishness.  The windows were tinted to the point of being nearly opaque on the outside, so no people could see the three young men watching the envious bystanders go by.</p><p>               “This is so fucking <em>cool</em>,” Ryuji beamed, feeling like a king among peasants as he looked out the windows.  “God, I wish I could travel like this every day!”</p><p>               “Your enthusiasm indicates a short tenure with the Clan, Ryuji,” Akechi glanced at him with a raised eyebrow.  “Is that true?”</p><p>               “I mean, it’s only been about a year, yeah.  I guess I don’t get all the crazy assignments like you must get, Akechi.  I mean, you barely even cared that we got a freaking limo to take us to the club.”</p><p>               “Well, this isn’t exactly my first time in a limo, I admit.”  Akechi’s self-important poise was apparent to both younger men, and Akira silently admitted to himself that he was starting to find it slightly annoying.  “Nor is it my first time attending <em>The Gates of Hell</em>.”</p><p>               “Wait,” said Akira, “I thought we were going to some joint called <em>Tough Love</em>.  What’s <em>The Gates of Hell?</em>”</p><p>               “Yeah, man!” Ryuji added.  “I’ve been to <em>Tough Love</em> a couple times myself, I know what it is.  Did you snort a line or something before meeting us?”</p><p>               Akechi chuckled into his hand, a devilish grin appearing on his face.  “Oh, my friends you shall see shortly, I assure you.”</p><p>               Akira and Ryuji looked confusedly to each other as the limo continued on for seven minutes before stopping in front of an unassuming small club on the southeast end of Kamurocho.  The building was extremely plain, with nothing but a small sign lined in neon to indicate what it was.  One would probably not even guess that <em>Tough Love </em>was much more than an underfunded bar going out of business.  Even <em>Serenity </em>seemed more upscale than this, at least by Akira’s reckoning.  There were only two people, a couple about thirty years of age, going inside when they arrived, and Akira was left entirely unimpressed.</p><p>               Ryuji scratched his chin as they watched the two pedestrians walk by.  “Would’ve thought Kitagawa-san would roll out the red carpet for us somewhere a little more lively.  I mean, I’ve been here twice before.  It’s probably the smallest bar in Kamurocho.  Isn’t this a bit underwhelming?”</p><p>               “What you perceive with your eyes, Sakamoto-san,” said Akechi as Maurice opened his door first, “can often be very deceiving.  In this city more than any other I’ve been to, what we see on the surface will likely be something of a ruse.”</p><p>               “Um,” Ryuji looked to Akira confusedly, “what?”</p><p>               “Come along, if you please,” said Akechi in a tone that was more indicative of a babysitter than a coworker.</p><p>               With a quiet groan, Akira exited the limo alongside Ryuji.  He straightened his jacket as Akechi took the lead into <em>Tough Love</em>, opening the door to the ding of a small bell overhead.  Inside the bar was little of note.  There were only four tables in the small room, and the bar itself resembled a kitchen counter more than anything.  In the far corner was the smallest karaoke setup Akira had ever seen – just two tiny speakers and a shelf of stacked CDs less than a meter tall. </p><p>               At the bar, the elderly bartender cleaned out a glass as the couple they had seen outside talked in hushed tones.  He seemed lost in thought as a small AM radio played next to him.  A woman calling herself “The Deb of Night” spoke in a deep, sultry tone as she discussed the music selection for the next hour and advertised her call-in advice segment coming up in twenty minutes.  The bartender glanced at the three well-dressed young men standing in his doorway then placed the clean glass under the bar before letting out a long yawn.</p><p>               “Well, he seems happy to be here,” Akira whispered to Ryuji.</p><p>               “Oh, he’s always like that,” his friend whispered back, slightly louder than Akira had.  “He talks less than any bartender in the city, but he makes a mean cocktail.”</p><p>               Akechi straightened his lapel properly before beckoning the other two boys to follow him.  They came upon a door next to the karaoke station that Akira had guessed to simply be a supply closet.  Upon closer inspection, he saw a slide panel at eye level near the top of the metal door.  Akechi raised his left hand and knocked on it three times, then four, then two.  After a moment, the panel slid to the side slowly, and Akira saw a pair of eyes staring back at them.  One eye was a deep brown, and the other was a milky gray.  “Password,” said the man in a raspy, elderly voice.</p><p>               “No,” Akechi replied flatly, his jaw clenching.</p><p>               The old man on the other side seemed very annoyed by Akechi’s candor, but then nodded before sliding the panel back.  A quiet metal thunk sounded off from the other side of the door, and thus the door slid open silently.  On the other side was a slouched over, elderly man with a wide chest and metal baton strapped to his belt.  He motioned for the three men to enter, and Akechi took the lead as usual.  They then found themselves in a metal corridor, pipes and general building infrastructure lining the walls.</p><p>               “Whoa,” Ryuji commented, “I had no idea what that door was before.”</p><p>               “You’ve seen nothing yet,” said Akechi, putting his hands in his pockets nonchalantly.  “Trust me.” </p><p>               Akechi’s smugness was not lost on Akira and Ryuji as the old man led them down the corridor.  They soon came upon an ominous, gray elevator door with a keypad to its side.  The old man pressed six numbers into the keypad with blistering speed, followed by an innocuous <em>ding</em> as the elevator door slid open.  Faintly, barely audibly, Akira swore he could hear music coming from somewhere below.</p><p>               “So, this is how we enter <em>The Gates of Hell?</em>”Akira asked as they entered the elevator.</p><p>               “Precisely, Kurusu-san.  I do hope you have at least a little faith in me.”</p><p>               Akechi gave the old man a nod, which was reciprocated before the old man slipped away back down the corridor.  Akira and Ryuji stood at either side of the older yakuza as Akechi pressed a button on the elevator panel labeled “C”.</p><p>               Akira nodded as he was now certain there was music coming from beneath them.  A driving bass and drum beat was barely but definitely audible from what he guessed was a few floors below.  “Ah, ‘descending into hell’,” he made air quotes with his fingers, speaking with a deadpan tone.  “Clever.”</p><p>               “Remember to mind the heat,” Akechi remarked with a smirk.</p><p>               The door slid closed and the elevator quietly, smoothly descended.  Akira could hardly feel the elevator’s movement, but he knew they were going down because the music was quickly getting louder.  He and Ryuji looked to each other, with Akira looking more concerned than Ryuji, who appeared both confident and excited.  Akechi, however, kept his gaze forward, his eyes low and brows raised.  Akira could swear his face naturally tended toward some degree of smugness.</p><p>               A moment later, the elevator door opened, and before them was a small corridor, lit only by faint red and orange candles set on the floor along the walls.  The candles gave off a strong earthy aroma, which Akira assumed to be some sort of drug given how pungent the aroma was.  At the end of the hall was a door, crossed on its front by two long chains, and guarded by an imposingly large bald man of dark skin, wearing a long black coat over his suit and pitch dark sunglasses on his face.  Akira and Ryuji both gulped as they could feel his gaze falling on them immediately.  As he did, the very air around them seemed to go still, though Akechi, of course, was entirely unphased.</p><p>               “Good evening, Gerald,” Akechi greeted him casually.</p><p>               “Mr. Akechi,” Gerald replied with an expressionless nod.  His voice was deep, heavy, as if the very sound carried weight.  “The Master is expecting you.  Your table is waiting.”</p><p>               “My compliments to the Master,” Akechi bowed his head with a slight grin.  “My companions and I are eager to conduct business with him.”</p><p>               “Hmm,” Gerald groaned, looking between the two younger men.  Ryuji crossed his arms, looking down his nose at the bouncer, while Akira only clenched his jaw and straightened his back.  He felt as if Gerald was probing them for weaknesses and shortcomings, and Akira felt a natural inclination to prove him wrong. </p><p>               Gerald then nodded again slowly, and took hold of the iron door handle to his right.  The handle made a loud <em>clunk</em> as it was turned, and Gerald then opened the door slowly.  Rock music began pouring out of the doorway in greater clarity.  “Enjoy your evening,” said Gerald.</p><p>               “Thank you very much,” said Akechi before turning to his companions.  “Come on, we’re expected.”</p><p>               The three yakuza walked past the bouncer, with Ryuji ending up closest to him.  Gerald watched his every move from behind his shades, and Ryuji could nor repress the shiver that crawled up his spine as the bouncer silently scrutinized him.  Akira found it humorous, though was silently thankful that he was on the other side of Akechi at that time.</p><p>               As they walked through the door, they were greeted with a large club-like environment, lit up ominously in deep, fiery reds and oranges.  There was likely about one hundred people present, by Akira’s reckoning, crowding the tables in front of the currently empty large stage.  Above the stage was two cages hanging from the ceiling, with busty women in leather lingerie (though given how much skin was shown, “lingerie” may have been a strong description), danced far more provocatively than any other club Akira had seen.  They ran their hands over themselves, focusing primarily on their crotch areas, and appeared to be outright masturbating themselves as they girated and danced.  Microphones were also hung above them in their cages, broadcasting their sensual words and moans all throughout the club.</p><p>               “Oh, why must you be held from me,” the girl in the right cage called to the girl on the left, making her words sound as lusty and sexual as possible.  “I need all of <em>that</em> right now, baby!”</p><p>               “And it will all be yours soon!” the other girl called back exuberantly.  “Master will set us free when we are through being <em>punished</em>, and I shall be yours again as long as you need!”</p><p>               To Akira’s further confused, and shamefully arousing, shock, the girls then seemed to begin truly masturbating for each other from their cages to the overt delight of every man and woman watching.</p><p>               The club was decorated with infernal, fittingly hellish fetishes and furnishings.  Artwork resembling sexually charged death metal albums were showcased on the walls like an art gallery.  The furnishings were of a gothic design, with pointy, jagged edges contrasting the lavish upholstery the patrons sat on. </p><p>The waitresses wore similar clothing to the girls in the cages.  That being, barely anything at all.  Akira did notice, however, a certain universal fascination for leather and latex present throughout the club.  One girl with a particularly developed behind on almost total display walked by the three young men, deftly carrying a platter of expensive drinks.  She winked to them as she made her way to a nearby table that erupted into cheers as she approached. </p><p>“What the <em>fuck</em> is this?” Akira whispered to his companions.</p><p>“I would say ‘heaven’,” Akechi replied, “but I feel that would be inappropriate.”  Ryuji was too distracted to respond.  “This, my friends, is mine and many others dirty little secret.”  Akechi turned to face the younger yakuza, a genuinely excited but mischievous grin shining on his face in the red and orange lighting.  “Welcome to ‘Hell’.”</p><p>While Ryuji eyed every waitress like a starving dog in a deli, Akira did his best to maintain his composure, reminding himself every few seconds that he had a date after his business was done.  But reminding himself of such a fact proved difficult as another hostess approached them, wearing a more covering, but still deliberately enticing, occult perversion of a nun’s outfit.  “Greetings, gentleman,” she crooned in a deep, seductive voice.  “The Master has prepared a table for you right at the front of the stage.  Please, follow me.  The show will be starting shortly.”</p><p>“Thank you kindly,” said Akechi, walking up to her side.  To Akira’s abject shock, Akechi then groped her butt hard as she led the way.  As if sensing Akira’s disapproval, Akechi looked back to him with a devious smirk as the hostess simply giggled to herself. </p><p>Akira nudged Ryuji in the arm to attempt to get his attention.  His reaction was delayed, but it worked.  “What is it, man?”</p><p>“I have a really bad feeling about this.”</p><p>“Oh, it’s okay, man!  You’re just sheltered.  You gotta break out of your shell a little!”</p><p>“Have you ever been to a place like this, Ryuji?”</p><p>“Well, no.  So I plan to do just what I said,” he locked eyes with a passing hostess, tipping his hat to her in a way Akira almost found endearing, but not quite, “and break out of my shell a little.”</p><p>Akira sighed and shook his head as they came upon their table.  The hostess pulled out a chair for each yakuza and bowed to them.  “The Master will be with you momentarily.  Please feel free to peruse our menu while you wait.”</p><p>“We appreciate it, thank you,” Akechi nodded with an innocent smile that immediately faded as he turned to Akira.  His expression turned judging, but somehow amused.  “Are you perhaps offended by my actions in some way, Kurusu-san?”</p><p>“Just taken by surprise,” he leaned back in his chair, folding his arms.</p><p>“It’s called <em>confidence,</em> my friend.  I’d suggest investing in some.  Keep in mind that you are directly employed by the organization that <em>owns </em>the organization that owns this establishment.  You, gentlemen, are capable of doing whatever you could possibly desire here and anyone involved will simply ask if you have had your fill.  The same, of course, goes for me as well.  So, Akira – can I call you Akira?  Yes, I believe so – I would advice you to take a note from our companion, Sakamoto, and let go of your personal inhibitions a little bit.  Trust me, whatever it is that stokes your flame, no one will judge nor care save that you are satisfied.”</p><p>“And I’m not here for that kind of entertainment, Akechi,” he glowered at him, growing more uncomfortable by the minute.</p><p>Akechi raised an eyebrow at him, then slid back in his chair, raising his hands.  “Alright, fine.  I apologize.  I was simply trying to inform you as to how this establishment is run.  I meant no offense.”</p><p>“I know, it’s just…” he trailed off upon realizing that any excuse he could give would only be more embarrassing. </p><p>“You’re not used to it, I know,” Akechi nodded.  “This is sort of like trying to run before you can walk.  But rest assured,” Akechi leaned forward again, looking Akira dead in the eyes, “you’re not alone here.  Trust me.”</p><p>Akira was at a loss for how to respond to that when a man abruptly took a seat next to him, causing the young yakuza to jump.  Now lounging in the seat to his left was a tall, lanky man with unkempt, messy hair sticking out from his head.  He sported a goatee under his callow, lazy smile, and was dressed in a tee shirt with a bleeding heart on it and a  leather jacket with the words “ASK NICELY” written on the sleeve.</p><p>“Ah, my best boys of the evening!” the man blurted out, raising his hands in the air.  “Good to finally have ya all here.  Akechi,” he held out his hand, “it’s been too long, man.”</p><p>“Likewise, Vincent,” Akechi shook his hand with a friendly smile.  “Sorry for being a stranger, I’ve been very busy in the last couple months.”</p><p>“Ah, fuck, man, so have I!  Especially the last couple weeks, damn!  I mean Suguru Kamoshisa as I live and breathe starts picking up and ganking girls in this town, meaning I gotta start hiring extra protection for <em>my </em>girls.  And then out of the fuckin’ blue I hear that some small-town kid charges into the base of operations of one of the biggest bastards in the adult industry, and puts the asshole on ice!  Man, talk about excitement!”  Vincent then looked to Akira, who was secretly wishing he could call his mom and have her pick him up to take him home.  “You’re that kid, aren’t ya?” Vincent asked casually.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>Vincent slapped his knee and loudly guffawed.  “God’s honest truth, it <em>is</em> you!  Man, talk about an awesome night!”  Vincent slapped Akira on the shoulder while still smiling giddily.  “Let me tell ya, man, my girls and I had one hell of a party in your honor when we heard the big news.  I almost called up the Boss to invite ya over for it, but I knew he was awfully busy, so I didn’t bother him.  However, now that you’re here, we can make up for it!  Hey, Marsha!” Vincent called to a passing waitress, dressed in a playboy bunny outfit.  “Four ‘Scalders’ if ya would, please!”</p><p>“Right away, Master!” ‘Marsha’ bowed and walked off, practically bouncing with glee, causing her bosoms to bounce in time as well.</p><p>“Ah, I love that girl,” Vincent remarked as he watched her walk away.  He noticed Ryuji watching her intently as well.  “You love her too, buddy?” he asked.</p><p>Pulled out of his daydream, Ryuji sputtered out, “Huh?  Me?”</p><p>“Yeah, you, blondie!” Vincent smirked.  “You like her?”</p><p>“I mean, she’s really hot…”  That ‘confidence’ Ryuji and Akechi had commented on seemed to be draining from him. </p><p>“She’s off waitress duty in one hour if you want me to set up an appointment.”</p><p>Ryuji’s eyes bugged out to everyone present’s amusement.  “Uh, well… Oh, man, that’s a generous offer, but, uh, I think I’ll have to pass – uh, sir!  I mean, we’re here to talk shop, right?  Probably should get on with that.”</p><p>Vincent raised an eyebrow and then shrugged.  “Suit yourself.  If you ever wanna try a bit of that forbidden fruit, though, members of the Clan get VIP treatment around here.  You guys scratch my back, I scratch yours.”  Vincent rubbed the back of his neck and cracked it; this combined with all his other ideosyncracies effectively betrayed all of Akira’s preconceived notions of what the manager of a club like this would be like.  He expected some tough as nails, steely yakuza type who would never let anyone near his girls without the highest of premiums, but instead here sat Vincent, reclining in his seat and acting like they were all long-time drinking buddies.</p><p>“I must agree with Sakamato-san on that though,” said Akechi.  “Sakura-san has been informed of Kitagawa-san’s current circumstances, and we are here to help in any way possible, Vincent.”</p><p>“Hell yeah, you are!  You brought along hero-boy, for god’s sake,” he nudged Akira in the shoulder, who then scooted his seat a few inches away from the flamboyant rockstar-like manager.  “Kitagawa appreciates you getting here so quickly, and also apologizes for not being present himself.  Important business, as usual.  Always tied down with something, man.  Anyway, what all do you boys know about the situation?”</p><p>“Only that there is one,” said Akechi.  “We were hoping you’d be able to enlighten us.”</p><p>“And I plan to, but only after eat, drink, and watch the show.”  As if on a cue, Marsha appeared at the table and set down four orange drinks in tall, ornate glasses.  The drink resembled a lava lamp, and Akira wondered just how they were able to make the different substances float in such a way.  “Your drinks, Master,” she said to Vincent before kissing him on the cheek.  “Enjoy, all of you!”  She ran a hand through Akira’s hair as she walked away, and the boy was remised to admit that her touch was not unpleasant. </p><p>Her hands were especially soft.</p><p>Vincent raised his glass with a wide, beaming grin.  “To your health, boys!” he proclaimed before taking a long swig of the concoction.</p><p>“Here, here!” Ryuji chimed in as he and Akechi began drinking their “Scalders”.  Akira took one sip, and felt as if his tongue was on fire as his sinuses were cleared in a second.  The drink burned, but not like coffee or coco.  He found it difficult to describe, but the flavor was intense, invigorating, and warmed him up from his toes to his head.  He was only able to take a couple small sips at a time, and wanted no more than that to be in the right mindset for his plans later, but he did enjoy whatever this “Scalder” was.</p><p>“Vincent,” Akechi spoke up.</p><p>“What’s up?”</p><p>“Is Catherine performing tonight, by chance?”</p><p>From behind his glass as he continued to drink, Vincent nodded confidently.  “Indeed she is, buddy!  You’ve missed her, haven’t ya?”</p><p>“I’m sure that is entirely common around here,” Akechi smirked as he took another swig of his drink.</p><p>“Everyone misses her when not around her, Akechi.  Even me, though I’m hardly ever away from her for long.  That girl, oh man,” he said wistfully, looking to the stage.</p><p>Ryuji nearly spat out his drink as a revelation dawned on him.  “Wait, you guys mean<em> that</em> Catherine!?  I thought she was just a myth!”</p><p>“Depends on who ya talk to, man,” Vincent replied smugly.  “To most, she is just an urban legend.  But here, she’s as real as I am.  In fact, it’s pretty lucky that you guys came tonight.  One of her bandmates may be of interest to you guys.”</p><p>“Who’s that?” asked Akira.</p><p>Vincent waggled his eyebrows at the young, endearingly serious man.  “The next best thing to Kitagawa-san, hero-boy.  That’s why I wanted to wait until after the show to talk shop, he’ll be available then.”</p><p>“Ah, <em>he’s </em>here tonight, is he?” asked Akechi.</p><p>“We get too many requests for him to not be here, man!  It’s a bitch trying to fit performances into his schedule, but when he can make it, my girls and I bathe in money at the end of the night!”</p><p>Akira rolled his eyes, becoming more closed off.  “Are we done playing the pronoun game, guys?”</p><p>“Sorry, hero-boy,” Vincent joked, “I just wanted him to be introduced to you properly, and you’re about to get one hell of an introduction.”</p><p>Vincent snapped his fingers in the air, and the lights in the club dimmed as spotlights shown on the stage.  The hum of stage monitors rang out through the hall as the crowds began to cheer.  Vincent hooted and hollered, with Akechi calmly nodding to himself.  “Showtime, boys!” Vincent shouted over the table as he stood to his feet, waving his arms in the air.</p><p>The lights of the club then went out, only illuminated by a few candles.  The stage went completely dark, but Akira could faintly make out the curtain being raised.  A sultry, seductive, enticing, evoking, sensuous female voice flowed through the club like a siren’s call.</p><p>
  <em>“Step inside,<br/>Walk this way,<br/>You and me babe,<br/>Hey, hey!”</em>
</p><p>The stage came to life, illuminated in an instant by spotlights.  There on raised platforms was junky-looking bassist, a tough and roudy drummer, a redheaded girl dressed in lingerie and devil horns playing an electric guitar, a black-haired girl dressed similarly, and a gaunt, pale young man of about Akira’s age playing a lead line on his electric guitar hypnotizingly effortlessly.  His blue hair shown vibrantly in the spotlight, his clothing was simple, largely uninteresting compared to the gaudy outfits worn by his companions.  He seemed far less emotive than his bandmates, but his fingers flew across the neck of his guitar with an ease and precision that only came from years of practice.</p><p>But then, walking out onto the stage, there appeared a young woman with short blond hair, dressed in a dainty but sensuous camisole,  strutting out onto the stage with a particularly evocative sashay to her steps.  Her movements as the song introed flowed like water; she threw her body around the stage with precision and grace, seemingly in a spiritual harmony with the familiar tune.  Ryuji cried out in excitement and stood to his feet as did so many others.  Akechi clapped along to the driving beat, Vincent headbanged like a megafan at a metal concert, and Akira had no idea what to make of it, save that this hellish angel was singing one his favorite songs.</p><p>She put her microphone on a mic stand at the front of the stage, her eyes lowered into a seductive glare out into the crowd, and as she continued to gyrate and dance in perfect syncronicity with one of the hottest hits of the previous year, she sang.</p><p><em>“Love is like a bomb, baby, c'mon get it on<br/>Livin' like a lover with a radar phone<br/>Lookin' like a tramp, like a video vamp<br/>Demolition honey, can I be your fan-ta-sy</em>?<br/><em>I’ll be your fantasy, baby.</em></p><p>
  <em>Razzle 'n' a dazzle 'n' I flash a little light<br/>Television lover, baby, I can go all night<br/>Sometime, anytime, sugar you sweet<br/>Little missy innocent sugar me, <br/>Yeah, yeah!”</em>
</p><p>The whole crowd was entranced by her amazing performance, and Akira found it difficult to focus on the other bandmembers as the singer began to feel herself up as she went into the chorus.  “<em>WHOOO!  CATHERINE!” </em>Ryuji cheered to his side.</p><p>
  <em>“Now c'mon, take a bottle, shake it up<br/>Break the bubble, break it up</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Pour some sugar on me!<br/>Ooh, in the name of love<br/>Pour some sugar on me!<br/>C'mon, fire me up<br/>I’ll pour my sugar on you!<br/>I can't get enough</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I’m hot, sticky sweet<br/>From my head down to my feet, yeah!”</em>
</p><p>The crowd was electrified, shouting out every lyric with her in a way almost religious as the drums pounded and the guitar blared.  Upon concluding the chorus, the siren before them got to her knees with mic in hand, and moaning directly into it, began to rub herself under her panties.  Akira had thought the crowd could not get any more excited.  He was proven very wrong.</p><p>Like a light switch, her demeanor turned in a second away from her pleasure to her music.  Singing the next verse, she crawled on the stage toward their table, staring directly into Vincent’s eyes, before to his utter shock, meeting Akira’s with an enticing, succubus smile.</p><p>
  <em>“Listen, red light, yellow light, green-a-light go<br/>Crazy little woman in a one man show<br/>Mirror queen, mannequine, rhythm of love<br/>Sweet dream, saccharine, loosen up!”</em>
</p><p>She leaned over the edge of the stage, inches from Akira’s face.<em><br/>“Loosen up for me, baby,” </em>she whispered into the mic.  </p><p>She raised herself to her knees, jutting out her pelvis in front of the boys as she ran her free hand through her hair, never breaking eye contact with the dark-haired young yakuza.  Akira’s eyes nearly popped out of his head.</p><p>
  <em>“You gotta give a little, squeeze a little<br/>Tease a little more<br/>Easy operator come a knockin' on my door<br/>Sometime, anytime, sugar me sweet<br/>Little missy innocent sugar me, yeah,<br/>Give a little more, baby doll.”</em>
</p><p>Getting up to her feet, Catherine strutted back and forth along the stage as the whole club sang along.  The following chorus received even more raucous and enraptured reactions from the crowd, and Akira found himself watching the talented but strangely understated guitarist as they approached the solo.  He was even more interested as the band brought down the energy to a slow, steady beat as they came out of the chorus, and the lights focused on the blue-haired guitarist.</p><p>               He started playing a staccato rendition of the main riff, gradually building into a more complex, hypnotic line.  Catherine came up behind him and covered her eyes with his hands before kissing his cheek and ear.  Akira made out the slightest hint of a smile before, with eyes still completely covered, the guitarist let loose a furious onslaught of shredding and finger-tapping along the neck of the guitar.  The crowd went ballistic as he played one of the most complex solos Akira had ever heard completely unable to see anything he was doing. </p><p>Catherine began planting kisses on his face more and more as his shredding increased in complexity and intensity, sending the crowd into a hyped frenzy.  Vincent threw the “rock on” hand symbol into the air, shouting proudly in support of the young man.  Ryuji and many others followed suit, Akechi clapped and shouted “Brava!”.  Akira then found himself moved to cheers as well as the young man climbed to the highest register of the guitar in a dizzying climax to his solo, before the whole band crashed into one gigantic final chorus.</p><p>
  <em>“C’mon now, shout it out!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Pour some sugar on me!<br/>Ooh, in the name of love<br/>Pour some sugar on me!<br/>C'mon, fire me up<br/>I’ll pour my sugar on you!<br/>Oh, I can't get enough!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I'm hot, sticky sweet<br/>From my head to my feet, yeah!”</em>
</p><p>               One minor outro, and there was the drum crash as the whole band proceeded to improvise, drum, shred, and play their hearts out for thirty more seconds.  The drummer filled and rolled at lightning speed, the backup guitarist and keyboardists sang out the root chord in perfect tandem, the lead guitarist shredded like his life depended on it, and Catherine headbanged along so hard and fast she could have been mistaken for being possessed by some spirit of rock ‘n roll itself.  The crowd stood to applaud the entire time, shouting and cheering as the band showed off for no more than posterity and the love of the music.</p><p>               Then all went quiet for the briefest moment.</p><p>               “<em>SHA!” </em>shouted Catherine.  And thus, the final hit rang out through the club, and there was not left but applause from all, including Akira.  The band took their energetic bows and waves, save for the blue-haired guitarist, who simply held his guitar at his side and bowed deeply, respectfully, as if he had just made a workplace presentation before they all exited the stage.</p><p>               “Hell yeah!” Vincent shouted as they finally took their seats.  “That’s my girl!  That’s daddy’s girl!  The most beautiful angel in hell, am I right, boys?”</p><p>               “She’s freakin’ amazing!” Ryuji exclaimed, eyes alight with excitement.  “They all were amazing!  Man, I’d pay good money to see them do a full show!  Wait, do they do full shows, Vincent?”</p><p>               “Occasionally, though they had to cut this one short since the four of us have other business to attend to, and Prince Guitar up there is going to be involved.”</p><p>               “Wait,” added Akira, “you mean that amazing guitarist is a Kitagawa?”</p><p>               Vincent chuckled to himself before standing to his feet.  “I’ll let him introduce himself personally.  Come on, we’re headed for my private lounge,” he smirked confidently as he led them away.</p><p>               Getting to his feet, Ryuji whispered to Akira, “This is one of the most awesome nights of my life!  These babes, that song, <em>Catherine!</em>  I feel like I’ve been missing out big time not knowing about this place sooner!”</p><p>               Akira could not help smiling in some small degree of agreement.  “Honestly, you’re right.  This place is pretty cool.”</p><p>               “Don’t you ever get excited over <em>anything</em>, Akira?”</p><p>               “Yeah, I do.”</p><p>               Ryuji lowered his brows at Akira’s flat response.  “Fuck you,” he snided.  They both laughed jovially at that as they were led to another door in the back of the club. </p><p>               Vincent pulled out a key linked to his belt and unlocked the door.  Opening it revealed a small, dimly lit lounge with three couches, two beds, a large television in front of the wall lined with raunchy posters, and tucked away by the bed at the far side of the room, a shelf of BDSM gear.  Akira felt it best to avoid further interaction or acknowledgement of such items.</p><p>               “Welcome to my personal corner of Hell, boys,” Vincent flamboyantly held his arms out as they entered.  “Everything you could possibly want, and everything you had no fuckin’ idea you wanted, all on tap here like soda!”  Vincent took a seat on the couch, sprawled out and relaxed, with his guests sitting across from him in less fraternal manners.  “Anyone want more to drink?  A couple babes?  A couple guys?  Your call, boys.”</p><p>               “I believe that will leave us a tad to distracted, Vincent,” said Akechi.</p><p>               “You guys really gotta come by when not on business,” Vincent produced a small bowl of marijuana from under the couch and began rolling it in a piece of paper.  “We would have so much more fun, totally guaranteed.”  He proceeded to hold the marijuana in his mouth and light it.  Moments later, the distinct stench filled the room, and Akira was wondering whether he would need a shower and change of clothes before his next appointment so as not to conjure any unpleasant questions with Ann.</p><p>               Outside the door, the men heard a new wave of raucous applause erupt from the club, and the door was unlocked and opened quickly.  In walked two figures, Catherine and the Kitagawa boy, waving to their adoring public.  Upon closing the door, Catherine turned to her guitarist.  “That was so badass, man!” she exclaimed jovially.  “You seriously killed it tonight!”</p><p>               “I appreciate it,” the boy replied.  Akira noticed his voice was deeper, smoother than he had expected, given he seemed to be no older than himself.  “You were exemplary as well, though that is unsurprising.”</p><p>               “Oh, gosh, you’re too sweet,” Catherine batted her eyelashes at him.  “And way too proper.  Would it kill ya to use some slang from time to time?”  The boy simply raised a confused eyebrow at her.  “Oh, whatever,” Catherine shrugged, turning to the other men.  “Did ya like the show, boys?” she asked with an innocent, girlish tone.</p><p>               Ryuji was outwardly enamored with the image of the rock idol standing before them, and Akira had little more than a nod before Akechi spoke up.  “You were enchanting as usual, Catherine.  I missed hearing your voice dearly.”</p><p>               Catherine’s eyes widened excitedly as she focused on the older yakuza.  “Akechi!  You’re back!”  She rushed over to him in his chair, sat on his lap, and they proceeded to kiss each other on the cheek as she wrapped her arms around his neck.  “Where the hell have you been, baby?  It’s been <em>so</em> lonely without you!”</p><p>               “Business is killer, darling.  I’ve been at my wit’s end pulling all-nighters for god knows how long now.  But never has a night gone by where I did not think of you and your voice.”</p><p>               <em>Smooth, </em>thought Akira.</p><p>               “Oh, always the charmer, aren’t you?” Catherine batted her eyelashes at him.  “I saw you in the crowd and just had to say hi, but then I spied another little fly caught in my web,” she turned to Akira with a confident, devilish grin that took him completely off guard.  Unbeknownst to him, his surprise was painfully apparent on his face, which Catherine thought to be saccharinely adorable.  “Let me guess,” she stood to her feet and walked over to Akira, bending down in front of him until he could feel her breath on his lips, “you’re the legendary hero-boy that stopped those <em>big</em>, <em>bad men</em>, huh?”</p><p>               “H-how do you know that?” Akira tried not to stammer.</p><p>               “I hear <em>everything </em>that goes on in this city, little boy.  I’ve heard plenty of tales of some little yakuza hero wandering into big, bad Kamurocho and cleaning up the place a bit.  Though I must say, you are a bit <em>smaller</em> than some have described you,” she ran her fingers along his chest, smiling wisely down at him.</p><p>               “I don’t even really know what these rumors are,” said Akira sternly.  “I just did what I had to to save my friends.”</p><p>               “Oh, so modest,” Catherine crooned, then sitting on Vincent’s lap who took the opportunity to immediately and shamefully grab and hold onto her butt.  “But where are my manners?  I totally stole the spotlight from our benefactor,” she motioned to the young Kitagawa, standing stock still by the door in a way almost uncanny, dissociated from his own surroundings.  “Don’t be shy, baby.  They’re friends.”</p><p>               The young man walked up to them and bowed deeply, his blue hair falling over his face.  “Good evening,” he spoke in a proper, delicate articulation.  “I am Yusuke Kitagawa.  Daijiro Kitagawa, patriarch of the Kitagawa family is my grandfather and primary benefactor of this establishment.   While my grandfather is sadly indisposed and could not be present tonight, he wished for me to make known that he is very thankful for Sakura-san’s continued support in these trying times.”  Yusuke then took a seat next to Akira on the couch, folding his hands in front of him and sitting perfectly straight.</p><p>               <em>He really seems nothing like a rock star,</em> thought Akira, looking him up and down.  <em>Hell, he’s practically like a robot</em>. </p><p>               “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Kitagawa-san,” said Akechi with a nod.  “And may I say before we begin, your performance tonight was simply stellar.”</p><p>               “Thank you kindly,” Yusuke bowed his head again.  “I am pleased it was able to move you so.”</p><p>               “More than that, it was simply rousing.  Is that not right, gentlemen?” he addressed the younger yakuza.</p><p>               “Hell yeah, bro!” Ryuji pumped his fist with a smirk.  “You’re totally sick!  Like, the kind of sick that deserves to perform with Van Halen!”</p><p>               “Your compliment is most appreciated, sir,” Yusuke spoke in a complete monotone, leaving Ryuji without any idea how to respond. </p><p>               “Uh, yeah, well, you’re welcome… I guess.”</p><p>               Yusuke nodded and turned to Akira.  “Is it true that you are the one who fell Kamoshida?” he asked apropos of nothing.</p><p>               “Uh, yeah, I am,” Akira said before visibly twitching for the briefest flash.</p><p>               “Are you alright?” asked Yusuke.</p><p>               “Yeah, I’m fine.  Just… the drink, you know?” he lied.      </p><p>               “Ah, indeed.”</p><p><em>What a weirdo, </em>thought Akira.</p><p>Yusuke turned to address all present, even as Vincent and Catherine began slowly making out in front of them.  “I will take up little of your time, I assure you.  The matter is, in fact, rather murky, so I lack many clearer details.  The bottom line is that my grandfather’s business partners have come across some unsettling developments down at the Kamurocho port.”</p><p>“What sort of developments?” asked Akechi.  “Your family controls the port uncontested.”</p><p>“True, but we recently came across a shipment containing trace elements of cocaine, which we do not engage with, coming through our channels.  A single delivery truck seemed to have been transporting the drugs to another location in the city completely under our noses.  My grandfather’s men however did not discover these trace elements until after the shipment had been delivered, though they were able to find the driver.”</p><p>“An undercover element?” asked Akira.</p><p>“Indeed.  A newer hire, only had been there four months.  He seemed to have been colluding with another outfit to transport the cargo using our Family’s business.  We do not adhere to normal federal regulations, so sometimes we will be hired to transport more elicit goods.  This, however, was never catalogued in our ledgers, meaning it was smuggled using our ships.  The undercover agent informed us of where the truck was heading, though.”</p><p>“Did the mole have anything else to say?” asked Akechi.</p><p>“No, he did not.  One of our enforcers tried to make him talk, but he had stowed a cyanide pill with him and killed himself before he could be made to talk anymore.  All we know now is that there is someone who has managed to use my grandfather’s business for his own personal smuggling.  With the aid of Mr. Vincent and some other contacts in the city, we have been attempting to track down where the truck was headed that night.”</p><p>“And that’s when Vincent swoops in and saves the fuckin’ day!” Vincent loudly praised himself, giving a Catherine a deep kiss on the mouth in celebration.  “Listen, we got one lead so far, and it looks like there may still be time to kick this guy’s ass and get his snow.  With the always incomparable aid of the Sakura-clan over the last week, we’ve tracked one particular asshole to a warehouse complex uptown, thanks to some business ledgers we procured that appear to have been falsified.  It was hard to tell though, there were hardly any mistakes in the ledger, but you know what they say, ‘No honor among thieves’, and we paid a warehouse worker to steal last week’s ledger.  That’s when we set up this little meeting.”</p><p>“What sort of mistakes were made?” Akechi asked, stroking his chin thoughtfully.</p><p>“They claimed that a whole damn truckload of insulation was moved from the docks ten days ago now, but there was no such history catalogued with the Kitagawa’s.  The idiot we payed off didn’t know shit, but even he had sense enough to know something fishy was going on.  We’ve got the location you can scout out for clues already pegged down.  4424 Naro Alley, Uptown.  About twenty minutes north by car.”</p><p>Yusuke then turned, surprisingly, to Akira instead of Akechi.  “Will you gentlemen, as representatives of the Sakura Clan, be willing in aiding us?”</p><p>“Isn’t that already decided?” Akira asked incredulously.</p><p>“Apologies, I am merely being polite.”</p><p>Akira just could not get a handle on this guy.  “Uh, don’t sweat it, bud.”</p><p>“Thank you,” Yusuke said politely.</p><p>Akechi then spoke up.  “The Sakura Clan will take care of everything.  Please inform your grandfather that we will be handling it immediately.”</p><p>Yusuke got to his feet and bowed.  “Your generosity is just as my grandfather described it.  He will be most pleased to hear that.”</p><p>“And just like that, we’re fast friends!” Vincent proclaimed.  “How some drinking and some fucking now that we’re all caught up?”</p><p>“As generous as that offer is,” Akechi stood up and straightened his jacket, “I’m afraid I will have to pass.  I have other business to attend to tonight, though I do not speak for my companions here.”</p><p>“I have to leave as well,” said Akira.  “Got another appointment coming up, and I don’t wanna be late.”</p><p>Ryuji looked far more torn than his companions, but spoke up a moment later.  “Well, if everyone else is clocking out, guess I am too.  Iwai worked me like a horse today, and I don’t think I have it in me for a proper orgy tonight.”</p><p>Vincent and Catherine shrugged in perfect unison.  “Suit yourselves, boys,” he said.  “But you better leave on more fun terms next time, you hear?”</p><p>“I will do my best,” said Akechi, bowing to their host.  “Thank you for the hospitality, Vincent.  Gentlemen,” he addressed his companions, “shall we?”</p><p>“Guess so,” Ryuji shrugged disappointedly before giving Catherine a wry smile, which she immediately reciprocated before winking at Akira.  He smiled back at her with a small sense of pride as the rock goddess noticed his unassuming, boyish form.</p><p>A bouncer led them to the back of the club to another elevator.  A moment after, they ascended to an empty hallway in a completely different building than the <em>Tough Love </em>bar they had entered from.  To their right was an opaque, metal door locked from their side.  “Last one out, lock the door,” said the bouncer before using the elevator once again.  Akechi walked up to the door, slid the padlock to the side, and on the other side was just another Kamuorcho back alley, abandoned save for the old garbage bags at the far corner.</p><p>“Well, gentlemen,” Akechi said with a friendly smile, “thank you for accompanying me tonight.  It was quite an enjoyable evening, I only hope that I was able to provide a good impression for Vincent and his establishment.”</p><p>Ryuji rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.  “I honestly don’t know what to think quite yet.  It was… a lot.”</p><p>“Kind of overwhelming, really,” said Akira.</p><p>“A very common reaction, believe me,” Akechi grinned.  “I apologize for any unpleasantness you may have experienced, though you did seem to enjoy yourself to some degree, Akira.”</p><p>“I did, believe me.  It was just a lot to take in.”</p><p>“Well, it is a bit more on the extreme side, but I can tell you will be most welcome there anytime now.  Vincent and Catherine especially took particular interest in you.”  Straightening his long hair, Akechi began walking to the mouth of the alley.  “I will be eager to hear of the next stage of our engagement.  But for now, enjoy your evening, gentlemen,” he waved to them, and disappeared down the bustling street.</p><p>“What a strange one,” Ryuji remarked candidly.  “Him and Yusuke, don’t ya think?”</p><p>“Yeah, really.  But damn, could Yusuke play guitar.  Never would have guessed it after meeting him, though, unless I already know.”</p><p>“The guy looked like he barely was aware of what was going on.  That, or he just didn’t care.  Say, where are you headed now, anyway?”</p><p>“Dinner, actually.”</p><p>“On your own?”</p><p>Akira shrugged, unable to help a slight smile coming to his face.  “See you tomorrow, man,” he called to Ryuji.  “Get some rest now, you hear?”</p><p>Ryuji yawned and stretched his arms.  “You too, Akira,” he called back.  “Don’t get too wild tonight!”  Akira responded with a confident wave without turning back, and in turn made his way up the sidewalk. </p><p>Ryuji turned to face the exit to <em>The Gates of Hell</em>, thinking on the electrifying performance he had just witnessed, and the prospect of what else he could witness had he stayed with Vincent.  He then shook his head, dispelling the many ideas.  “Keep it on the downlow, man,” he told himself.  “You’re not like that anymore.”</p><p>
  <strong>{Reviews are always encouraged.}</strong>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6: Every Rose Has Its Thorns</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Chapter Six</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Every Rose Has Its Thorns</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>               Hands in his pockets, Akira walked across the street, coming up on leBlanc.  Doing his best to dispel the constant thoughts of Catherine that were invading his mind, focusing on her full, supple lips, her half-lidded stare, her breasts swaying as she danced and sang like a woman possessed, her hips gyrating in rhythm with the music, her crawling toward him along the stage…</p><p>               <em>I think I lost my train of thought</em>, he shook his head and lightly slapped his own cheek.  <em>Right, Ann, dinner, drinks.</em>  Cursing himself for how lecherous he felt, Akira entered the hotel and approached the always reliable young gentleman with short dark hair at the reception desk.</p><p>               “Good evening, Kurusu-san,” he bowed to him.  “May I help you?”</p><p>               “Do you know if Takamaki-san is in?”</p><p>               “Not to my knowledge, sir.  I have not personally seen her since this morning.”</p><p>               “I see.  Thank you anyway.”</p><p>               “Of course, sir,” the receptionist bowed.  “If there’s anything else I can do for you, just let me know.”</p><p>               Akira turned around, returning his hands to his pockets as he looked around the lobby.  Various rich looking people were sitting around, enjoying drinks and finger food and engaging in casual, hushed conversation.  Occasionally, Akira caught a person staring at him, whispering to their companion as they did.  Pretending not to pay attention, Akira took a seat at the back of the lobby, waiting for Ann.</p><p>               His eyes perused the room, focusing on the couples and groups that were scattered about.  Faintly, Akira heard a woman to his right, whispering to a friend of hers.  “Is that the hero?” he heard her say.  “He’s not quite what I had in mind.”</p><p>               “I heard he’s Sakura’s new pet project,” her friend replied.  “But you never can tell with rumors, you know.”</p><p>               “Someone told me he’s an assassin.  Another said he’s some martial artist prodigy.”</p><p>               To his left, a man said, “I heard he’s Sojiro’s family.  Like, blood family or something.”</p><p>               “No way,” said the other man beside him.  “You know the shit that went down with his blood family, right?  No chance is the hero with him.”</p><p>               <em>Blood family?</em></p><p>               “I don’t know much about it.  Do you know something I don’t?”</p><p>               The man’s friend shushed him quickly.  “I’ll fill ya in later, okay?”              </p><p>               “Right, sorry,” the man whispered.</p><p>               <em>What happened to Sojiro’s family?</em> Akira thought.  <em>He told me he had a wife… Past tense.  I wonder what happened to her.</em></p><p>               As he stroked his chin, thinking on the various possibilities of what Sojiro meant by everything he said, and what the people around him could have possibly been saying about him now, the entrance to the hotel lobby swung open slowly. </p><p>               And in walked Ann.</p><p>               Wearing a sky blue dress that hugged her figure perfectly, she strutted in like the model she was.  The light blue coloring caused her blond hair to pop and radiate just like the sun on a clear summer day, and her vibrant eyes shown like gems.  Her blond hair fell behind her head in waves instead of the twin tails she normally wore.  Akira was frozen for a moment as he took in the sight of her, only snapping out of his revelry when she spied him from the other end of the lobby, and she immediately waved his way, smiling excitedly and beautifully.</p><p>               Akira got to his feet, and they walked up to each other in the middle of the lobby, both smiling brightly.</p><p>               “Wow, you clean up good, Akira,” Ann looked him up and down with an interested smirk, a saucy look in her eye.  “Did you wear all this for your business meeting, or just for me?”</p><p>               “If I must be honest, both,” Akira nodded his head swaggerly.  “Wanna get out of here?”</p><p>               “And where are we getting out of here to?”</p><p>               “There’s a bar Ryuji and I go to called Serenity.  The lady who runs it will give us whatever we like at a discount, and the atmosphere is relaxing while also being kind of posh.  Sound like a good time?”</p><p>               “Oh, so you got your own regular hangout, huh?” Ann asked flirtatiously.  “Alright, lead the way, hero-boy.”</p><p>               “Follow me.”</p><p>               They stepped out into the warm night air side by side and began walking toward Tenkaichi Boulevard.  They garnered stares from many a passerby, with some even recognizing Ann from her most recent magazine feature.  Ann felt a surge of confidence in herself from such attention, and being accompanied by an admittedly very handsome young gentleman.</p><p>               “How did your shoot go, Ann?” Akira asked her before he nearly walked into a pedestrian due to being distracted by her hair flowing in the breeze.</p><p>               “It was fun!” she smiled at him, locking eyes with the young hero.  “The producer was really nice, the crew were all super fun.  The only problem was one of the other models trying to get catty with me, but I delt with her no sweat.”  The girl smirked deviously at Akira with slanted eyes, something the boy found strangely intimidating and charming at the same time.</p><p>               “What did she do?”</p><p>               “Oh, just was getting passive aggressive and kind of bitchy about me being the centerpiece model.  Apparently, her agent got her psyched up about being the centerpiece herself and she was taking it out on me.  I told her to stick it to her agent instead and walked away.”</p><p>               “Badass,” Akira nodded.</p><p>               “Darn right!” Ann put her hands on her hips and smiled widely.  “She apologized to me afterward, I grabbed a frosted croissant that was <em>delicious</em>, and got ready to meet up with you.”</p><p>               “Sounds like you had a hell of day, Ann,” Akira grinned at her.</p><p>               “I did, but I’m sure yours was even more interesting.  What all did Sojiro have you do tonight?”</p><p>               “I was actually gonna wait till we got the bar before that.  It’s a long story.”</p><p>               “Ooh, color me intrigued,” Ann winked at him.</p><p>               <em>I guess I still got my touch. </em> “In the meantime, if you’re still in the mood for sweets, the lady who runs the bar’s got some mean cheesecake.  New York style is her specialty, and it just melts in your mouth on contact.”</p><p>               “<em>Mmm!”</em> Ann cooed with childish glee.  “I haven’t had cheesecake in forever!  I’ll have at least two pieces!  Maybe three, depending on how good it really is.”</p><p>               Akira looked at Ann inquisitively.  “Uh, Ann?  No offense intended or anything, but aren’t you not supposed to eat a lot of sweets when you’re modeling?”</p><p>               “You’re right, but I don’t really care.  I have a great metabolism!  Besides, I like having a slightly fuller figure.  I’ve never liked the idea of being a twig like a lot of the other girls I model with.  I’ve got natural, God-and-mother-given curves, and I’m proud of it!”</p><p>               Akira took this time to examine said figure in her tightly fitting dress, and concluded that there was truly no wonder as to how she was able to consistently get gigs.  “I’ll bet your confidence helps with your job too.”</p><p>               “Oh yeah!  I’m not some pushover girly girl and I’m not desperate.  I’ve dropped plenty of jobs in the past because the director was a creep, and I’ve had a lifetime’s worth of creeps.  I love modeling, but I love myself even more, and I won’t ever let anyone take advantage of me.  Period.  Or my daughters, if I ever have any.”</p><p>               “You want to have kids?”</p><p>               Ann’s eyes immediately brightened up a bit in a way strikingly genuine.  “Absolutely!  I love modeling, but I also truly want to be a mother.  It feels like, well, what I <em>have </em>to do, and not just because I’m a woman or anything.  I have my reasons.”</p><p>               “And those reasons are –“  Akira felt something hit him in the shoulder, and heard a man yelp as he hit the ground beside him.  In shock and embarrassment, Akira looked down to see a bald, round-headed man in a fancy purple suit rubbing his chest, his expression furious.  <em>Oh shit.</em></p><p>               “The fuck you think you’re doin’?” the man asked with a pitchy, nassaly voice as he got back to his feet.  Akira immediately got in between the man and Ann, puffing out his chest just a little bit to look more imposing, like a lion protecting his mate.  The man, obviously a yakuza, smirked at Akira antagonistically, looking him up and down as he steadied himself.  “And just what the fuck family are you from, eh?”</p><p>               Not wanting any part of this, Akira said, “Excuse me,” and tried getting around the yakuza.</p><p>               “Excuse you?”  The yakuza got back in front of him, looking Akira in the eyes.  “No… <em>FUCK YOU!” </em>the yakuza screamed at him. </p><p>               Akira felt that familiar heat in his gut begin to rise as the man was obviously itching for a bout, but he did not move, only worrying about how Ann may be reacting to this mess.  “Look, man,” Akira said in a low, intimidating voice with a fiery glare in his eyes, “it was just a mistake.  I’ve been drinking tonight and wasn’t watching where I was going, so I apologize.  But more to the point, you’re disturbing my friend here, so why don’t we just go our separate ways now, huh?”</p><p>               “You little shit!” the yakuza shouted again, now garnering many a stare and glare from civilians around them.  The yakuza grabbed Akira by the collar of his shirt, and Ann gasped behind him.  Akira, however, seemed unphased.  “You got any idea who you’re fucking with kid!?”</p><p>               In a flash, Akira lifted up his hand and grabbed the yakuza’s collar in turn, pulling him in closer and glaring daggers directly into his eyes.  The older man was, only for a moment, more surprised than angry.  “Do you?” Akira snarled at him with a quiet but ferocious ire.</p><p>               The man bared his teeth and somehow looked even more furious than before.  “Piss off, dumbass!” the yakuza pushed him away, knocking Akira backward into Ann.  He regained his footing, then seeing that his well styled bangs had fallen over his eyes.  “You coulda just groveled on the ground like a good young thug, maybe empty your pockets or send your date with me,” the yakuza cracked his knuckles with a smirk, “but you just had to play the hero, huh?  Putting on a show for your girlfriend?  Real fuckin’ rich of ya –  OW!"</p><p>               The yakuza howled in pain, clutching his eye as he reeled back.  A small rock was on the ground next to him now, and Akira looked to his side to see Ann glaring daggers at him, holding another rock in her right hand.  “If you don’t want another rock to the eye, you should get lost, jackass,” she sneered at him.  “We want <em>nothing </em>to do with you.”</p><p>               “Ergh, dumb bitch!” the yakuza shouted at her.  “I’ll make you both pay for this!”</p><p>               “Two against one, moron,” said Ann with a bit more cocky confidence.  “I may be a woman, but you’re still outnumbered.  You wouldn’t last five seconds.”</p><p>               “Uh, Ann?” Akira questioned, growing very concerned.  “What are you doing?”</p><p>               “Sticking up to this guy with you, of course.”</p><p>               “Yeah, but you don’t have to,” Akira tried to warn her off.</p><p>               “I know, but I want to,” she smirked deviously.  Akira was left both impressed and intimidated by his friend.  “Now beat it, asshole!” she shouted at the yakuza.  “You’re cutting into my date night!”</p><p>               The yakuza got into a fighting stance, and Akira did the same on reflex.  “I’ll make you eat those words, bitch!”</p><p>               “Touch her and you go home in pieces,” said Akira calmly, defiantly. </p><p>               “I’d love to see you try,” the yakuza smiled evilly.  He raised his fist, about to charge Akira, who was all too ready to counter the blow, when the yakuza stopped, hearing a voice from behind him.</p><p>               “The hell is all this?” came the voice, sounding strangely familiar to Akira.  “You picking fights with kids now, Fukuyama?”</p><p>               The yakuza referred to as Fukuyama turned around quickly, giving Akira a good look at who was behind him.  Three other yakuza, one big and brutish with a thin head, one short and fat with a bad beard, and the other somewhere in between, spinning a pocket watch around in his hand. </p><p>               “You gotta be kidding me,” Akira said under his breath.</p><p>               Ann looked to him more worriedly.  “What is it?”</p><p>               “They’re the goons I beat up at Jewel a few days ago.  Damn, this is gonna get rough.”</p><p>               “Dumbasses bumped into me and started talking wise, boss,” said Fukuyama quickly.  “I was about to teach ‘em some manners, is all.”</p><p>               “And who are these dumbasses?”  The brutish leader looked over Fukuyama, spying Akira and Ann.  His relaxed, dismissive expression immediately soured upon seeing the young man.  “Well, fuck me sideways.”</p><p>               “Nice to see you too,” Akira nodded toward him.</p><p>               “You’re the kid from Jewel,” said the leader.  “Out for a night on the town with your girlfriend?”</p><p>               “And your lackey here is making a mess of it.”</p><p>               “Well, I would apologize for him,” the other thugs got behind him, lowering themselves into fighting stances, “if only it was anyone else other than you.  I can’t pass up a chance like this.” </p><p>The leader cracked his knuckles with a smile, and Akira stood defiantly in between the yakuza and Ann.  “Run for it,” he commanded her.  “I’ll meet up with you at the bar, just get out of here.”</p><p>“I can help, Akira!”</p><p>Akira glanced back at her with shock in his eyes.  “You can’t be serious!”</p><p>“I am,” she nodded her head before rolling her neck like a boxer before a match.  “I’m not leaving you on your own with them.”  Ann stepped forward to his side, then raised her hands in front of her in a tiger stance, her palms out and back arched forward.  “You idiots don’t have any idea how fucked you are.”</p><p>The men smirked, the leader nodded as he rubbed his shoulder like a pitcher at the plate.  “Time to play, kids,” he raised his fists.  “You’re both a mile up shit creek.”</p><p>“Big mistake,” said Akira, adopting his preferred stance his mom taught him.  His right fist was raised near his chin, with his left fist lowered by his leg.  The posture was the perfect mix of defense and offense, allowing one to switch between approaches fluidly at any time, even during his or his opponent’s offensive.  His mother had told him once that it was called the “Dragon Stance”. </p><p>The heat welled up within him once more.  “<em>BRING IT!”</em></p><p>Fukuyama rushed him with a wild haymaker, which Akira blocked deftly with his raised right arm.  He followed up with a sucker punch to the gut and a swift knee upward as well, pushing him back.  The fat, bearded one then charged toward Ann as Akira was focused on Fukuyama, but Ann was far quicker than the man anticipated.  He tried to grab her, but she spun to his side and kicked him in the side of the knee.  Stunned for a moment, the fat man cried out before Ann brought down a powerful hammer fist on top of his head, driving his face into the pavement with sickening crack.  With no pause, Ann raised her leg in the air and stomped downward onto the man’s head with all her might, breaking his nose against the sidewalk.  She twisted her heel into his head before turning to face the other men.</p><p>Spitting on her foe, she shouted with gusto, “Who’s next!?”</p><p>“Holy crap,” said Akira, eyes wide and fixated on her to the point that he almost did not notice Fukuyama coming back around to strike him from behind.  Akira turned on his heel, narrowly dodging another attack before striking Fukuyama again in the gut.  Akira put the older man in a chokehold and spun him around before throwing him into his two remaining companions.  They collided in an instant, sending Fukuyama to the ground and the other two yakuza reeling off balance.  “Playtime’s over!” Akira shouted before breaking into a sprint.  He leapt forward, feet out in a mighty dropkick and flew right into the two remaining yakuza, sending them to the ground as well.</p><p>“Akira, that was awesome!” Ann exclaimed as he was regaining his footing.</p><p>“Thanks!  I made that one up myself!” he called back to her, unable to stop a smile from appearing on his face.  He sometimes hated to admit it, but there was something about fighting, using his mother’s techniques and his own, that always got his blood flowing.  His mother referred to it as “heat” and taught him how to transform that fiery ferocity into physical strength.</p><p>“<em>Mother fucker!” </em>the boss shouted as he got to his once again.  He looked Akira in the eyes, his fury only growing worse as Akira smirked at him confidently.  “I won’t lose to you twice, kid!”</p><p>Akira cracked his own knuckles, all of his mother’s teachings flowing back to him at once, though with complete clarity.  His mother was secretive and evasive at times, yes, but she was a hell of a teacher.  He knew that for certain.  “Show me what you got,” Akira beckoned him with a cocky grin.  “I hope it’s more than last time.”</p><p>“That’s it!  You’re sidewalk meat, kid!”</p><p>The brutish leader rushed forward with a much more stable stance than his cronies, but Akira was unphased.  Without hesitation, he stepped to the side and punched his foe in the back, but it had little effect.  The boss turned around again and threw a wild punch faster than Akira could fully react, and he took half the full strength of the punch to the side of his head as he tried to duck under it.  The blow was nothing staggering, but it did blur his vision for a moment. </p><p>Then, from behind him, “<em>DIIIIE</em>!” shouted a man.  Akira was about to drop to the ground and roll out of the way, until nothing hit him at all.  Instead, the thug behind him cried out in pain as Ann whacked him over the head with a traffic cone.  She then hit him again on the other side of the head, and once more brought the cone down on his forehead.  The yakuza doubled over before Ann brought her leg back behind her with a mighty cry.</p><p>The tip of her shoe then crushed the man’s balls, and he fell to the ground crying out in a high-pitched scream of agony.  Both Akira and the yakuza boss cringed at the sight.</p><p>“What!?” Ann called to the leader.  “You want some too!?”</p><p>“I’ll send you both to hell for this!”  The leader tried to punch Akira again twice more, but he blocked them both deftly.  He pushed the man back, and then the world seemed to slow around him.</p><p><em>“When you can perfectly balance your focus and emotions,”</em> he heard his mother’s voice say, <em>“you can briefly become stronger than normal.  This is ‘heat’, Akira, and it’s one of your greatest tools at your disposal.  Feel that anger in you, but don’t let it overtake you.  Keep it perfectly balanced with your technique and focus, like walking on a tightrope, and you’ll be able to take down even the strongest foes.  Find that perfect line to walk, that exact point of pressure, then take hold of it and let it erupt through your body!”</em></p><p>Akira returned to himself, and taking a stance exuding true power, he cried out with a thunderous voice.  “<em>It’s showtime!”</em></p><p>Akira rushed the leader with a powerful punch across the face, then another, then another.  He unleashed a flurry of blows, each seeming even faster than the last.  As his punches increased in intensity, so did his voice, building up a shout as he pummeled the yakuza.  He brought down one more punch, crashing into the side of the man’s head and bringing him to a kneeling position before Akira chambered his leg in a flash, and sent the full weight of his body through his foot directly into the man’s face.  “<em>SHOW’S OVER!”</em> he cried out as the kick connected, sending the man tumbling backward.  He rolled backward three times before coming to a stop, laying on the ground in a heap.</p><p>Breathing heavily, Akira stood up straight, feeling overwhelmingly pleased with himself as the leader of the yakuza lay sprawled out on the pavement in a daze.  Akira shook out the soreness in his hand from the onslaught of punches he threw and could not help smirking at his handiwork, his sense of triumph only furthered by the rising applause from the crowd that had gathered to watch the show.</p><p>“Oh my god, Akira!” Ann exclaimed from behind him.  “That was amazing!  Where did you learn to fight like that?  You were like a freaking boxer!”</p><p>“Oh, it’s all in the technique,” Akira said confidently, rubbing his muscular shoulders in full view of his friend.  “I’ll tell you all about it when we get to the bar.”  He walked over to Ann’s side, rubbing the back of his neck.  “I’ll bet you’re hungry after all that.  I know I am,” he smiled at her.</p><p>“I sure am!  And a nice pastry and a stiff drink sound divine after that mess.”</p><p>And thus, with renewed vigor and many a joke made at their adversaries’ expense, the duo made their way down Tenkaichi Boulevard.  “Where did <em>I </em>learn to fight like that?” Akira asked his friend excitedly.  “Where did <em>you </em>learn to fight like that, Ann?  I didn’t know modeling involved learning martial arts.”</p><p>“When I started modeling, and after the whole Kamoshida thing, I took some self-defense classes just in case I ever got caught in a bad situation again.  I really only learned karate, but I also saw a lot of kung-fu movies with my dad growing up, and I took some of those street fighting moves to heart.  Well, the ones that didn’t need a trained stuntman to perform, at least,” Ann giggled to herself.  “I’ve gotten in a couple scrapes with creeps before, but that was the first time I’ve been in a real fight.  I was mostly acting on instinct, honestly.  The crazy thing is… I wasn’t scared.  At least, I don’t think I was.  I saw a rock, knew I could use it against much larger men than me, and just <em>did </em>it.  Same with the traffic cone.  I just knew I had to use every advantage I could to keep me safe and help you.”</p><p>“You’re very resourceful.  That’s one of the best skills you can have in a fight.  If you can use anything in your surroundings to your advantage, you should, as it might just save you.”</p><p>“Wow.  You sound like a martial arts master.”</p><p>“Well, I did have a good teacher.”</p><p>“Your mother, right?” asked Ann.</p><p>“Yeah, that’s right.  She taught me almost everything I know, and the rest came from movies, like you,” Akira chuckled to himself.  “I’d say about 96 percent of what I know came from my mom though.”</p><p>“She must be an amazing fighter.”</p><p>“If you can believe it, I’ve never beaten her in a sparring match once.  We’ve sparred at least three times a week since I was five years old, and I still can’t quite beat her.  She has her own fighting style she designed herself to be able to go up against even the strongest men.  Don’t get me wrong, she’s super strong herself, but it’s gonna take a lot more than brute force for her to take down most men.  To do this, she invented her own fighting style all about defense, countering, and incredibly fast offense to take advantage of even the slightest opening.  I’ve gotten close to beating her a few times in the past couple years, but when she gets serious, she’s practically untouchable.  She even calls her fighting style ‘Dancing Dragon’.”</p><p>“Whoa,” Ann droned with an awestruck expression.  “She sounds like some kind of goddess.”</p><p>“You could say that, yeah.  She’s amazing, both in a fight and daily life.  Almost everyone in my hometown loves her, and she’s helped out just about everyone in some way at least once, and rarely asks for anything in return.  I’ve always tried to be like her in that aspect, and I got a lot of practice with it with my friends back home over the years.”</p><p>“I’ll bet they really love you then,” said Ann pleasantly, almost wistfully.</p><p>“I just do my best to help,” Akira replied with a nod.  “I haven’t been perfect at it, but I always try my hardest to help people.”</p><p>“I’ve already seen that,” Ann looked up to him with an expression almost thankful.  “And I think it’s wonderful.”</p><p>Bashfully, Akira looked to his side for a moment.  “Thank you.”</p><p>“You’re welcome.”</p><p>Soon after, they came upon the quiet, little bar known as Serenity.  Akira opened the door for his companion like a gentleman on prom night, and they entered to the sound of quiet jazz piano and ethnic woodwinds singing through the sound system, and a news broadcast.   Once they came into the foyer, they spied a man with a scruffy five o’clock shadow, wearing a purple suit jacket and black slacks sitting at the bar, his long black hair falling past his neck.  He was watching the television overhead as he sipped on a glass of whisky.  The man was the only patron present, yet Ma was nowhere to be seen.</p><p>A woman with long brown hair and a gray pantsuit administered the news.  “The disturbing assassination of Representative Tatsu has shaken the political race for the role of Prime Minister.  However, newly acquired evidence shows that the perpetrator may have ties to local yakuza, contrary to the previous theory that the assassin was affiliated with a political extremist group.  The source of this evidence has elected to remain anonymous, though law enforcement claims that this evidence is to be trusted. </p><p>Food service conglomerate Okumura Foods CEO, Konikazu Okumura, who has been Tatsu’s most steadfast rival in the running, openly mourned the loss of the representative, and called upon all people of Japan to stand up against the growing threat of organized crime with a rousing speech.”</p><p>               The image changed to that of a tall, bespectacled middle-aged man in strikingly expensive looking suit standing on podium in front of a large crowd.  “While the yakuza have aided our nation before,” he proudly proclaimed, “they have gone too far this time, to say the very least.  Support me in my race, my fellow countrymen, and I will see Representative Tatsu’s abhorrent passing avenged swiftly to the full extent of the law’s power! Never will I allow this nation’s servants to live in fear of harm or assassination.  All those who stand against the law will be brought to justice <em>by </em>the law!”</p><p>               The crowd erupted into applause and the man, identified as Okumura, waved his hand respectfully to the people as he was escorted off stage by security.</p><p>               The man at the bar took another sip of his drink.  “An assassination, huh?” he muttered aloud, his voice as thick and smooth as his whisky.  “Scary shit,” he shook his head and finished the last of his glass.</p><p>               The door to the kitchen then opened, and out walked Ma in her red blazer and knee-length skirt.  Her face lit up as soon as she saw the younger patrons who had just walked in.  “Akira!” she said happily.  “Welcome back!  Oh my,” she raised an eyebrow, smirking, “and who is your friend?”</p><p>               “Ma, this is Ann Takamaki,” he motioned to his companion.  “She and I were hoping to get some dinner and drinks tonight, and I knew this would be the best spot in town.”</p><p>               “Nice to meet you, Ma’am,” Ann bowed respectfully.  “I hope we’re not intruding.”</p><p>               “Not at all!  Please, come have a seat.  Make yourselves at home an take a look at the menu.”</p><p>               “Thanks a lot, Ma,” said Akira, taking seat at the barstool beside Ann and two seats down from the other patron.</p><p>               Getting to his feet, the man then spoke up.  “Well, guess that’s my cue to leave.”  He then produced a wad of cash from his breast pocket and put it on the table nonchalantly.  “Thanks as always for the drinks, Reina.  No one mixes ‘em like you.”</p><p>               “Oh, pish posh, Akiyama-kun,” Ma waved him away with a giggle.  “I simply aim to please.”</p><p>               “And that you do,” the man referred to as Akiyama replied with a grin.  With an effortless swagger, Akiyama made his way to the exit before calling back, “Enjoy your date, kids.  Just don’t let the lady talk your ear off.”</p><p>               “Oh, get out, you,” Ma called after him playfully.  “Leave the children be.”</p><p>               “Yes, Ma.  See ya soon,” Akiyama waved over his shoulder and disappeared out the door.</p><p>               “He’s a… friendly one,” Akira remarked.</p><p>               “Oh, he’s just a clown in fancier clothes,” said Ma.  “But he is a good man through and through.  He’s a financier and has helped many of my customers with money troubles.”</p><p>               “So he’s a loan shark?”</p><p>               “Something like that, but he’s nothing close to what you normally think of when you hear that term.  He’s a good, honest man, just a little too cocky for his own good.  But at least he’s witty about it.  Now, what can I get you two?”</p><p>               “I’ll have a chilled hard apple cider on the rocks,” said Akira.</p><p>               “And I’ll have watermelon Moscato with… well, Akira mentioned you have New York style cheesecake?”</p><p>               “Of course!  Would you like that with strawberry, cherry, or blueberry topping?”</p><p>               “Strawberry, please!” Ann said excitedly.</p><p>               “A wonderful choice.  Give me just a few minutes.  Oh, and let me turn off that darn news station.  Akiyama insisted on watching the results of the horse races today and never bothered to change the channel to something more pleasant.”  Ma produced a remote from under the counter and flipped the channel to some game show Akira did not recognize.  “Ah, much better.  Now, take a load off and relax, you two.  I’ll get your orders out shortly.”</p><p>               “Thanks, Ma,” said Akira politely.  Turning to Ann, he asked, “So?  What do you think of the place?”</p><p>               “It’s lovely.  I love the atmosphere.  It’s so mature, but still relaxing and lowkey.  I admit, I’m not quite used to going to adult venues like this yet, but Ma makes it feel very welcoming.”</p><p>               “She’s a real sweetheart, yeah.  Never runs out of things to talk about, but when you serve Family men on the regular, you probably get tons of stories to share.”</p><p>               “She serves yakuza here?”</p><p>               “Yeah.  I learned it from Ryuji, who brought me here first.  But don’t worry, this is one of the safest spots in the city.  Anyone makes trouble in here, and they’ll have the whole Sakura clan on their ass.  Ma is highly respected and loved by many, and no one makes trouble in her place.”</p><p>               “Hey, at least you brought me somewhere safe,” Ann smiled at him.  “Speaking of which, where exactly did you and Ryuji go tonight?”</p><p>               Realizing the awkwardness of the truth, Akira attempted to deflect it somewhat with humor.  “Would you believe a nursing home?”</p><p>               “Not at all.”</p><p>               “Yeah, didn’t think so.”  Akira paused as words suddenly became harder to come by.  “Well, the truth is, we met up with another member of the family, a guy named Akechi only a couple years older than us, and he took us to meet up with an informant for a new job at the request of a Sakura subsidiary.  Some guys called the Kitagawa Family.  We met up with the patriarch’s grandson, an amazing guitarist named Yusuke, and he gave us the info we needed.”</p><p>               “That’s all very cool, but where did you <em>go?</em>” Ann pressed.</p><p>               “Uh, well, we went to an underground sex club.”</p><p>               “Oh my,” said Ann with a surprised though surprisingly non-judgmental expression.</p><p>               “Yeah, some place called ‘The Gates of Hell’.  Cheesy and cliché, I know, but the staff were nice.  We even got to mee the owner, and you would never get a stoner, rock groupie like him was the manager.  He was really friendly though.”</p><p>               “I’ll bet the girls were very friendly too,” Ann pressed further, though with a knowing, teasing voice that exhibited no ill will.</p><p>               “Oh god, it was something else,” Akira exhaled sharply upon reminiscing on the night’s events.  “It’s in places like that where you realize just how innocent you really are.”</p><p>               “Aw, were you feeling a little overwhelmed?” Ann teased in a cutesy, patronizing voice.</p><p>               “Wha – No!  Not at all!  <em>Ahem,” </em>he coughed awkwardly into his hand.  “Not a bit, nope, no way,” Akira sputtered out, causing Ann to laugh.</p><p>               “Oh my god, look at mister big, bad, yakuza hero acting so adorable!”</p><p>               “Hey, you asked first!” Akira shot back without a hint of genuine anger.</p><p>               At that, their orders arrived, and Ann immediately became giddy with joy as she took her first bite of the cheesecake.  “You were right!” she exclaimed.  “It just melts in my mouth!  And the strawberries are perfectly ripe too!”</p><p>               “I told you it was great.  I’m glad it lived up to expectations!”</p><p>               They both laughed heartily before clicking their glasses together and enjoying their drinks.  The world seemed a bit calmer now, a bit brighter.  Though in this new calm, Akira felt a burning question force its way to the forefront of his mind.  It was possible asking such a question would ruin this new brightness, but to truly be at ease with his friend, he felt he had to ask it.  Or perhaps it was just the alcohol.  He would have time to weigh that possibility later.</p><p>               “Hey, Ann?”</p><p>               “What’s up?” she mumbled through a mouthful of cheesecake, an image that was so endearing it almost made Akira forget what he was about to ask.  Almost.</p><p>               “I just wanted to know, well, why you’re so comfortable being around me.”</p><p>               “Um, because you’re my friend, and a really cool person.  And you kind of saved my life,” Ann laughed as her face became slightly more blush.</p><p>               “Yeah, and thanks for that, but I meant in regards to… well, me being affiliated with yakuza.”</p><p>               Ann set her fork down after a moment, wiping the bits of cheesecake and droplets of wine from her face.  “Well,” she began slowly, “I know you don’t like being a yakuza, for one.  I also know that you’re caught in some crazy circumstances I still don’t fully understand.”</p><p>               “Neither do I, to be honest.”</p><p>               “Exactly.  It’s not like you <em>wanted</em> all this to happen to you.  You saved a girl’s life, right?  Something you seem to have a habit of, and that’s a good habit to have,” Ann smiled warmly, before her smiled faded, her expression becoming dour.  “You just got screwed over for being a good person.”</p><p>               Akira was running out of good responses.  “Yeah, I guess so.”</p><p>               “But that doesn’t change the fact that you <em>are</em> a good person, and you saved someone’s life.  Sure, you didn’t get the reward you deserve, but you still threw yourself into a dangerous situation and saved someone in the process.”  Ann paused, taking a long sip of her Moscato.  “Just like with Shiho and me.”</p><p>               Akira nodded slowly, then pursed his lips with concern.   “If you feel you owe me in some way, that’s not the case.  I didn’t do either of those things for a reward.”</p><p>               “I’m not saying you did, or that I’m doing this because I owe you.  I’m saying,” she looked Akira dead in the eyes, and he almost got lost in hers, “that I know, regardless of what ‘job’ or whatever you might have now, that you are a good person, and that you care about people too much to go down a life of crime.  If that weren’t true, you wouldn’t have taken on Kamoshida for a couple people you had just met.”  Ann then gently, softly, delicately, put a hand on top of Akira’s.  Their skin barely touched, but the boy felt compelled to look her in the eyes once again.  Her striking gray-blue eyes, like waves on the ocean, showed both deadly seriousness, and immense, deep, genuine compassion.  “And thank you for that.”</p><p>               Akira’s expression slowly turned to a soft smile, as he felt a great weight being lifted off his conscience.  “And thank you for seeing me that way.”</p><p>               Ann smiled back at him as she removed her hand from his.  “You’re very welcome.”</p><p>               Their eyes were locked for a long, quiet moment before they finished their drinks.  Ann ate the rest of her cheesecake with blissful gusto, savoring every bite.  The conversation became far less dour quickly, moving to subjects regarding Ann’s job, reveling in their recent victory in combat, and making light small talk with Ma.</p><p>               Then the bell chimed, signaling the door being opened.</p><p>               “Ma, I’m home,” called a very familiar voice.</p><p>               “Welcome back, Ryuji!” Ma called over sweetly as the raucous young man in the black hat entered the bar.  Akira immediately caught his friend’s gaze, waving to him with a friendly grin. </p><p>               Ryuji whistled to himself as he bore witness to the scene before him.  “Am I interrupting?” he asked in both a jesting and genuine tone.</p><p>               “Maybe a little, but you can have a seat anyway,” Akira motioned to the seat beside him.</p><p>               “Take a load off, Ryuji!” Ann called to him.  “We’re just chilling out.”</p><p>               “If that’s what you wanna call it,” Ryuji muttered to himself as he walked over to the bar. </p><p>               The blond boy ordered a classic Irish dark beer as Akira ordered another round of cider, and while he was disappointed he was no longer alone with Ann, the three friends quickly fell into a good rhythm of conversation.  Never was there a moment of awkward silence, but instead there was smiling, laughter, and many a breeze being shot as they discussed anything that came to mind.  Be it the newest action manga on sale or the new income tax legislation in the works, the conversation bounced back and forth between myriad subjects over the next hour, though no one was paying attention to the time.</p><p>               As his face became more and more red, Ryuji slapped Akira on the shoulder out of the blue and proudly proclaimed, “Hey, Akira!  Let’s do some karaoke!”</p><p>               “Um…</p><p>               …</p><p>               …</p><p>               What?”</p><p>               “Karaoke!  Ma’s got a good selection, so let’s hit it, man!  Just one or two rounds before we hit the hay for the night!”</p><p>               “I dunno, man.  I wouldn’t wanna embarrass myself in front of you guys.”</p><p>               Ann giggled loudly into her hand.  “Do you think Ryuji can actually <em>sing</em>, Akira?  He can barely find the melody!”</p><p>               “Yes, I can!  I’m a musician!  Just because I play drums, doesn’t mean I don’t have any understanding of melody!”</p><p>               “Okay, okay,” Akira defused the argument.  “I’ll sing a round, alright?”</p><p>               “Sweet!” Ryuji pumped his fist in the air.  “Let’s see if we can get a high score!”</p><p>               They quickly flipped through the songs on the machine, with little standing out to Akira’s tastes.  That is, until he came across <em>JUDGMENT</em>.</p><p>               <em>Of course they would have that one, </em>he thought.  “Can you do backup on this one, Ryuji?”</p><p>               “Well, I normally sing lead for <em>JUDGMENT</em>, but I’ll let you take the lead this once.”</p><p>               “How generous,” Akira smirked as he cued up the rock song.</p><p>               Picking up the mic and relaxing his throat as he had so many times before back home, Akira listened to the synthed-up opening chords ring out as Ann and Ma applauded the boys enthusiastically.  Akira cleared his mind and his throat, and then, just as he had many times with his friends back home, began to sing the anarchic, self-empowering voices with gusto and perfect pitch.</p><p>               Likely, it was the alcohol that allowed him to sing to the full extent of his abilities in front of his new friends.  It took only a few seconds before Akira was singing wholeheartedly, every word and note matching the pitch of the original singer to a t, though with some added dramatic flair on Akira’s part.  Ryuji, Ann, and Ma watched him in awe, completely surprised by how well he could sing, and it was this talent that Ryuji was spurred to sing even more proudly himself.</p><p>               Ma and Ann clapped along and cheered them on as they reached the chorus, with Akira and Ryuji strutting about like hair-metal rockers at a sold-out concert.  For the first time since arriving in Kamurocho, Akira felt entirely in his element, letting his love of music emanate from him through his vibrant performance.  Going into the apex of the chorus, it became difficult for Akira to remain on pitch, as he was smiling to brightly it interfered with his mouth movements, but he did not care.  No one did.  They were all enraptured by the usually stoic and closed off boy’s energetic performance.</p><p>               They came to the conclusion of the song, and Ann and Ma erupted into raucous applause.  Akira and Ryuji both bowed deeply before bumping fists.  “Dude, you can <em>sing!”</em> Ryuji exclaimed.</p><p>               “You’re not half bad yourself, man!”</p><p>               “No, like, you can <em>SING! </em> What, were you in a band or something in high school?”</p><p>               “Uh, well,” Akira rubbed his neck sheepishly before both boys were pulled into a group hug by Ann.</p><p>               “You guys are <em>AMAZING!</em>” she exclaimed, the alcohol apparently taking effect; not that either boys cared.  “And Akira, you’re such a good singer!  I had no idea, but I was floored!  How long have you been training?”</p><p>               “Since I was eight.  My parents are both huge music fans, especially of rock.  It kinda, well, inspired me when I was young.”</p><p>               “You should be in a rock band!” Ann proclaimed.  “You could be the next Jon Bon Jovi, or Steve Perry!”</p><p>               “Okay, I wouldn’t go <em>that </em>far,” the dark-haired young man laughed at Ann’s enthusiasm.</p><p>               They all shared a laugh, and Akira tried to dodge more compliments to no avail.  And for another half hour, the horrors and complications of the last couple weeks completely faded from memory for the teens.  They sang, they talked, they enjoyed life like any normal teens would.  For the first time in a very long time, Akira felt like he was in a good place once again, with loyal friends at his side.</p><p>               His scars, his mistakes, his uncertainty no longer mattered, at least for a little while.  They all hugged each other with slurred words as they regretfully exited the bar, wishing their blissful revelry could have gone on just a little while more…</p><p>               …</p><p>               Masayoshi Shido was escorted to the back of the traditional Japanese mansion by a young bodyguard in black sunglasses.  He knew this meeting would be short, but still wished he were back in his own penthouse.  Upon reaching a sliding door with an ink depiction of a peach tree, the bodyguard granted him entrance to the small room, the back wall of which was taken out to build a porch overlooking the beautiful garden awash in moonlight.</p><p>               “Shido-san is here, sir,” said the bodyguard as he slid the door open.  Sitting on the floor at a small wooden table was a large, bald gorilla of a man in a dark kimono, sipping tea as he looked out over the garden. </p><p>               “Let us be,” said the man, and the bodyguard obeyed.  Shido took a seat across from him, bowing his head.</p><p>               “Shimano-san,” said Shido quietly.  “Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.”</p><p>               Shimano turned his gaze to the younger yakuza.  “I was about to call you just before you called me.  Your friend, employee, accomplice, whatever you call him, has made things very interesting and just as difficult in the past day.”</p><p>               “Did you and Goda not trust that my plan would work?”</p><p>               “Chairman Goda trusts you, yes.  I, however, am a bit more concerned given how badly you injured my liaison.”</p><p>               “I asked for a professional, and you sent a monkey in a suit who thought himself immune to the chain of command.  I’m certain you were not surprised by my response.”</p><p>               “Not at all,” Shimano shook his head, taking another sip of his tea.  “Though I’d hoped you wouldn’t try a power move like that.”</p><p>               “You’re the one who doctored the contract, aren’t you?” Shido accused him swiftly.  Shimano glared at him over his cup, knowing that both he and Shido were aware that such talk to a superior could get a yakuza’s finger cut off, or worse.  Shimano wondered what the presumptuous younger yakuza was getting at, being so insultingly confident.</p><p>               “I serve the Omi Alliance in body and soul,” said Shimano slowly.  “I will do <em>anything </em>to ensure the best for my Clan.  Your original contract put you in a distinct place of opportunity, regardless of the outcome of your <em>master plan</em>.  And yet, here you are, justifying injuring my man for circumventing ‘the chain of command’, as you put it.”  Shimano leaned forward with a smirk, though Shido sat perfectly straight with no response at all.  “What in the goddamn kind of bullshit are you pulling here, Shido?”</p><p>               “Exactly what you wanted,” he retorted promptly.</p><p>               “How is deliberately fucking with me, Goda’s right hand, doing what <em>I </em>want.”</p><p>               “You, me, Goda, and the entire Omi Alliance want Sakura’s head on a pike, yes?  To be paraded through your gardens like Chinese New Year.  Well, as I said when I first came to you, my plan is the <em>only </em>way that will ever happen.  The Alliance is strong, yes, but you will never rise from the ashes of your humiliating defeat on your own, Shimano.  That is why Tatsu is dead, strung up like the French Revolution.  And why I have some… <em>friends</em> coming to town soon which I will be rolling out the red carpet for.  They will show all of Japan only a glimpse of my influence, yet they will probably still see it as a symbol of the end times.”</p><p>“You cocky prick,” said Shimano.</p><p>               “This cocky prick is going to redeem the War, or should I say, the <em>Fuck Up </em>of ’67, Shimano.  Goda understands this, at least.  Tatsu stood directly in your way in trying to expand your forces in Osaka, and now he’s dead in the ground, and I already have Kanto in my pocket.  We will have <em>full </em>ability to operate as we need from here on, both the Alliance and myself.  All that’s left now before the next phase begins is for me to… well, be officially inducted into the Alliance.”  Shido could not help a smirk from sneaking to his face.  “As a patriarch.”</p><p>               “How <em>dare </em>you?” Shimano snarled.  “You’re not even from Osaka!  All you did was barge into our front door out of nowhere and proclaim yourself a messiah!”</p><p>               “Am I not?” asked Shido with a perfectly smooth voice.</p><p>               Shimano held his tongue for a moment before speaking again.  “Goda will never stand for this.”</p><p>               “He already has agreed to it.”</p><p>               “<em>What?</em>”</p><p>               “I was in contact with him after the assassination.  The pact will be made in three days.  Though I did not come here just to gloat, but also to inform you myself that <em>you</em>, Shimano, will be helping me welcome my friends to Japan soon.”</p><p>               Shimano had no more words.</p><p>               “Your Family is full of strong warriors, and I will need them to send a message to all of Japan that the yakuza are not some relic of the past, and we are not a charity organization like the bullshit Sakura propagates.  We are the modern samurai,” said Shido proudly.  “And we have risen from the ashes.”  Shimano felt, for the first time in his life, powerless.  “There will be no repeat of 1967, Shimano.  Trust me, we haven’t even truly begun yet, but we have already won.”</p><p>               “You make demands of <em>me?</em>”</p><p>               “Not demands, no.  Goda has already agreed to that as well.  I simply felt it better to inform you myself.  Kanto and Osaka will fall at our knees in due time, now that we are united, Patriarch Shimano.”</p><p>               Shimano glared daggers at Shido, who seemed to take some sort of enjoyment from it.  “And will there be a Dragon this time?” he asked after a moment.</p><p>               “I already have contingencies for that.”</p><p>               “So, you’re saying there will be?”</p><p>               “I say nothing, save that there is no Dragon of Sakura for Chairman Sojiro to fall back on this time, as he always did.  The Dragon family died that night in 1967.  Even gods like <em>him</em> can’t survive a thirty-story fall, it seems.”</p><p>               “What about this new hero in Kamurocho?  Some think he may be the next Dragon.”</p><p>               “I am already taking care of him.  He will be of no consequence.”</p><p>               “How are you taking care of him?”</p><p>               Shido chuckled to himself as he rose to his feet, not waiting to be excused.  “That is none of your concern.”</p><p>               “You little bastard,” Shimano muttered, staring Shido down.  “Damn you.”</p><p>               “Yes, many have,” Shido replied as he exited the room without a bow, or even a thank you for Shimano’s time.</p><p>               The older patriarch looked out his window to his garden.  He then looked to his tea, and thew the stone cup out the window in a rage. Goda, his boss, his lord, has just sent him to the dogs for a young upstart.</p><p>               He regretted not strangling Shido to death that night when he had the chance.</p><p>               <strong>[Reviews are always encouraged.]</strong></p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7: Dawn of the Vipress/The Skeleton Crew</h2></a>
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  <strong>Chapter Seven - Part 1</strong>
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  <strong>Dawn of the Vipress</strong>
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</p><p>               <em>The next morning, somewhere far away…</em></p><p>Her alarm had been set for 8:30 a.m.  She lay in bed now at 6:43, and had woken up at 5:58.  The first rays of the morning sunlight poured through the curtained windows at a shallow angle, illuminating the bedroom in a soft yellow glow.  Beside her, her husband was sound asleep with his back turned to her, his thick light brown hair having become a rat’s nest overnight.  She watched him breathe in and out slowly, then returned her gaze to the ceiling, watching the fan spin around.  Not able to take the agonizing silence anymore, she carefully got out of bed and walked down the stairs outside their bedroom. </p><p>               She rubbed and cracked her neck as she stepped out of the back door and onto her porch.  As she adjusted her nightgown which had fallen down slightly over her modest yet sizeable bust, she took in the distinct, calming scent of the pure blue river behind her home.  She pushed her black hair out of her eyes and looked out over the beach as the morning waves of the Koi no Choyaku river rolled against it slowly and quietly, the sun just now peering over the trees on the far end of the bay two kilometers ahead.  The sky was blue, pink, and orange, with small clouds flying by every few moments, and the sounds of the river was a song that calmed her like nothing else… normally.</p><p>               Standing on her porch, she leaned against the railing as she stared at the river.  She spied two large fish jumping out of the water half a kilometer out, and a large heron standing at attention amidst the reeds a ways off to her right.  The woman rubbed the sleep from her eyes before stretching her arms, trying to alleviate the stress that had kept her up most of the night.  Alas, it did not work.  No matter how she tried to focus on the sounds and sights of nature that so often was able to calm her, she could not help her mind from fixating on the unknown wellbeing of her son.</p><p>               Her name was Anri Kurusu, and she was in some serious shit.</p><p>                 It had been nearly a month now since Akira had disappeared, placed under the protection of her former benefactor Sojiro Sakura, and the only thing keeping her sane was knowing that if something truly serious had happened to her son, Sojiro would have called her.  She had not received any word from the old yakuza since the night Akira was taken to Kamurocho, and while she did not know Sojiro’s true nature anymore, she was at least absolutely sure he would tell her if the worst case scenario came about.</p><p>               Anri closed her eyes, trying to focus on the sound of the waves to little avail.  <em>It actually happened, </em>she thought.  <em>I had prepared him for this his whole life, but I prayed everyday it would never actually happen.  I fully intended for him to never go near Kamurocho, and now he’s doing God knows what in that damn city.  At least Reina and Wakaba are probably keeping an eye on him.  And I’m sure Kashiwagi and Saejima can definitely protect him too, if need be.  And it’s not like he didn’t have a damn good trainer all these years.</em>  She smirked at her self-congratulation before feeling something rub against her leg.</p><p>               Below her was a black cat with deep blue eyes and a white strip traveling from his chin to his belly.  The cat rubbed its face against her leg affectionately, purring as it did.  “Oh, Mona,” Anri said softly.  “Did you sense that I’m not doing hot this morning?”  She kneeled down and picked up Mona, petting him in her arms and feeling his strong purrs against her chest.  “You miss Akira too, don’t you?” she asked him.  “I’ll bet, you’re not nearly as social as you usually were.  But thank you for coming out with me anyway,” she rubbed her face against the cat’s head, eliciting more content purrs. </p><p>               Anri felt tears begin to sting her eyes as she remembered the day Akira brought home the cat he would soon name Mona.  He was only thirteen at the time, standing in the door of their house with his friends in tow, holding a box in his arms.  Inside was a newborn kitten that Akira emphatically explained was abandoned on the side of the road, and he insisted many, many times that they keep it and give it a good home.  It really took very little convincing for Anri and her husband to agree, but she was so impressed by Akira’s passion to save the kitten, even at such a young age.   They took the kitten in immediately, and the next day Akira named him Mona after a manga character Anri was unfamiliar with, but his friends agreed it was a great name, so it must have had some merit.</p><p>               Anri continued to rock and pet Mona as the occasional tear fell down her face, unable to stay off the worry she had been awash in for weeks.  She tried to be strong and resolute at first, but the worry and guilt was becoming stronger every day, and it now felt overwhelming.  She wondered at all times whether Akira was okay, whether she had trained him well enough to make it in the yakuza world…</p><p>               Whether she had completely failed him as his mother…</p><p>               It was then that someone hugged her from behind tightly, wrapping his arms around her midsection and holding her close.  He gave her a soft kiss on the cheek as she leaned into his embrace.  “Couldn’t sleep?” her husband asked.</p><p>               “Barely, only a couple hours.  You might need to give me meds from your work at this point.”</p><p>               “I’ve been thinking about it, honestly.  If you think it would help, I could write a prescription when I go in today.”</p><p>               “I would like that,” she nodded.</p><p>               Holding her tightly was her husband, best friend, and father of her only child, Takuto Kurusu.  A councilor, psychiatrist, cook, and endless fountain of kindness.  Many, <em>many</em> times over their twenty-one years together had he picked her up when she was down, and she would then return the favor when needed.  She was more than capable of physical fighting, but mental, emotional battles were a whole other challenge for her, and she knew she would not be half as stable today were it not for his help, his empathy, and his love.</p><p>               “Akira will be okay, I’m sure of it,” said Takuto, looking out over the river with his wife.  “You didn’t train him for nothing, and he’s far from unintelligent.  He knows to make good choices, to keep himself safe.  We’ll see him soon, I’m sure of it.”</p><p>               “I wish I was.  God, dad must be rolling in his grave right now.”</p><p>               “Why would he?”</p><p>               “Because he never abandoned me, even to his last breath.  But the moment things got tough, like I always knew they would, I abandoned <em>my </em>child, just let him be carted off to his fate.”  Anri glowered through her tears, cursing herself internally.</p><p>               “You’ve been protecting and preparing him since he was born,” said Takuto reassuringly.  “I’m sure he knows exactly what to do.  And Sakura wouldn’t make him do anything dangerous.”</p><p>               Anri’s gut tightened at that.  “You don’t know that.”</p><p>               Takuto pulled back away from her by two inches.  “What do you mean?”</p><p>                “That man Akira fought… I don’t know what he’s like now, how powerful he is.  But if he’s anything like the man I knew back then, then I have no idea what Sojiro might be willing to do.  I don’t know what he’s doing, or if he’s doing anything at all, but I do know that I never told Akira about Shido, even when I should have that night.  I’ve hardly even told <em>you </em>anything about him, Takuto.  If it were almost anyone else in the world, I wouldn’t be so worried.  But it just had to be <em>him</em>.”</p><p>               “What are you saying?”</p><p>               Anri turned around to face her husband.  His large chestnut eyes, his scraggly hair, his sympathetic smile and aura did little to calm her in this moment.  “Sojiro is a yakuza patriarch, a clan leader.  He’ll do anything for his Family, and I think he still considers me to be a part of it.  I was always a “Dragon” to him, and everyone else.  I’m most worried about if Akira is alright, but what I’m also worried about is if Sojiro will…” she trailed off, her expression darkening.</p><p>               “If Sakura will… what?”</p><p>               “…will try to make our son a Dragon too.”</p><p>               Takuto, despite being an accomplished psychiatrist and counselor, was running out of words.</p><p>               Anri turned back to face the river, glaring out over the water.  “I trained him just like father trained me, and I do believe he holds the Heart of the Dragon, but that isn’t his world; it’s not his <em>fight</em>, if there is one.  But if there is, then it may mean father died for nothing, Takuto.  And that all the effort we spent to keep Akira away from them may have been for nothing too…</p><p>               And I may have been able to stop <em>all </em>of this all those years ago.”</p><p>               “You can’t possibly know that for sure,” Takuto replied fervently.  “If things seem off, if you feel like Sojiro isn’t protecting him how he should, then we’ll go to Kamurocho and get him back.  Yes, I know you think they might try to pull you back into that world, but if that’s the case, I’ll go alone.  Hardly anyone there knows who I am.”</p><p>               Anri shook her head as no more tears fell down her face.  “No, Takuto.  If we need to fix this, then <em>I </em>will fix it.  I ran away with my tail between my legs, but I won’t run again, especially when it’s for my son.”  Anri rubbed the back of her neck, feeling the slight difference on the skin where the tip of her violet and emerald tattoo ended just below the base of her neck.  The serpentine royal purple dragon with a deep green belly on her back had faded in the past twenty years, but she knew there was still some strength left in her once famous spirit.</p><p>               <em>Be with him, Father,</em> she prayed.  <em>I promise, if he needs my help, I’ll come home and set all this right, just like you would have.  I’m won’t run away again.</em></p><p><em>               I </em>swear<em> it.</em></p><p>               …</p><p>               <strong>Chapter Seven - Part 2</strong></p><p>
  <strong>               The Skeleton Crew</strong>
</p><p>
  
  <em>Meanwhile, en route to the Kamurocho docks…</em>
</p><p>“Noble Team,” came a voice over the radio, “this is Kazurhira Miller, Noble Actual.  Sound off, Nobles.”</p><p>               “Sae Niijima, Noble One, reporting.”</p><p>               “Goro Akechi, Noble Two, present.”</p><p>               “Kenjiro Egami, Noble Three, sounding off.”</p><p>               “Takiyuki Yagami, Noble Four, sounding off.”</p><p>               “Masayoshi Tanimura, Noble Five, reporting.”</p><p>               “Good,” said Miller over the radio, “doesn’t sound like anyone fell asleep on the ride over.  Sorry to kick you out the door without much briefing, but that’s why I’m here.”</p><p>               Kazuhira Miller was a proficient analyst and operational supervisor, well known in the Tokyo precincts for his ability to provide often life-saving advice to police on dangerous missions.  Even though he was only half-Japanese, his accomplishments in his eight years of service in Tokyo had garnered him unwavering respect.</p><p>               Even in the dark of the police car as it rode along the dirty streets of the harbor district, Kaz’s voice was enough to at least partially calm Sae’s nerves.  She had only worked with him directly once before on a particularly volatile drug bust one year prior, but his calm advising in the face of eminent danger instilled in her great confidence in him.  In the driver’s seat was Akechi, adhering to all traffic laws perfectly, almost robotically so.  Behind them on the road was the other three officers hand-picked by Niijima to accompany them on this raid.  Yagami was driving the second car, and she knew that Akechi’s boy scout-like adherence to the speed limit was likely giving the boisterous detective a serious headache.</p><p>               “The primary target is Yumi Sawamura,” said Miller calmly and clearly over the radio.  “Akechi-san has reason to believe her daughter may be held captive as well, and if so, then she will be treated as a priority target as well.  The captors are suspected to be the Venom Flower Syndicate, an infamously dangerous triad originating in China.  Akechi-san has pinpointed their most likely location to Dock B4 at the harbor, and I have the maps for the building right here, thanks to our generous and well-connected commissioner.”</p><p>               “Couldn’t have given us a copy, Kaz?” asked Yagami sarcastically.</p><p>               “Hey, I gotta be able to do <em>something </em>this morning.  Coffee doesn’t do much for me anymore, and I was up at three a.m. to get ready for this show.”</p><p>               “So were we, dude,” said Tanimura, a half-Chinese officer and second youngest of what Murakata had dubbed “Noble Team”, apart from Akechi.  “Do we sound any happier about it than you?”</p><p>               “The briefing, please,” Sae interjected sharply, growing annoyed with her friends’ unprofessionalism.</p><p>               “Right,” Kaz began again.  “The Venom Flower Syndicate is a small outfit, meaning they won’t likely have anything too crazy hidden in their coat pockets.  They were kicked out of China by the larger syndicates four years ago for an attempted coup against one of their superiors, as the story goes.  Akechi-san and I believe that they were trying to make one final push to make a big score before fading out of existence.”</p><p>               “Meaning they’re lacking firepower,” said Kenshiro plainly.</p><p>               “Meaning they’re desperate,” Sae added.  “Kaz, we’re approaching the docks.  What’s our first move upon arrival?”</p><p>               “Enter the building from the South and proceed down the first flight of stairs on your left.  That’ll take you to the lower level of the complex.  I’ll guide you from there.”</p><p>               “Roger.”  The cars pulled up to the docks overlooking the bay, the first light of sunrise reflecting off the dark and murky water.  “We’re at the docks.”</p><p>               “Excellent.  From now on, we will refer to each other by our designations.  Contact me if you need advice.  Good luck, Noble Team.”</p><p>                “Copy,” said Sae sharply.  The five officers exited their cars, and Sae found herself instinctively putting her hand on the gun strapped to her side.  The warehouse in front of them appeared ominous and foreboding.  The docks were used consistently for shipping, but in the low light of dawn, the docks seemed more like a ghost town.</p><p>               The officers came together in front of the warehouse, all secretly feeling on edge.  Sae rolled her shoulders as if psyching herself up for a fight.  “So it begins,” she muttered.  “Let’s go,” she said to her companions.</p><p>               “Right behind you,” said Yagami.</p><p>               “Keep your wits about you,” Akechi added as they walked to the door.  “They may be disempowered, but they are still monsters to the core.  We must proceed with caution.”</p><p>               Sae came upon the door to the warehouse and tried to turn the knob, but unsurprisingly, it was locked tight.  “Allow me, Noble One,” said Akechi, pulling out a lockpick and pin from his coat.</p><p>               “You just had that on you?” asked Tanimura.</p><p>               “You don’t?”  Tanimura shrugged at Akechi’s curt response.  The youngest Noble went to work picking the lock, only twisting the lockpick for a few seconds before the knob clicked.  “There we go, nothing to it,” said Akechi, turning to Sae.  “By your lead, Noble One.”</p><p>               Sae only responded with a nod as she slowly opened the door.  Right hand on her gun, she pushed the door open, eliciting a long, unsettling metallic creaking as it skidded across the floor.  Before them was an empty reception area with a single desk, a computer, and a bookshelf behind it.  Noble Team entered the reception area conservatively.</p><p>               “There’s the staircase,” their leader said.  “Keep your guard up, Nobles.”  They followed her closely in a defensive formation, with Akechi staying at her side.  Down into the silent darkness they went, descending the metal staircase with loud, thumping footsteps that put them all on edge.  There was a faint white light at the bottom of the stairs they soon found out was a lone workman’s torch hanging from its wire on the ceiling.</p><p>               The room appeared to be an employee breakroom, with lockers and showers lined up in rows across the walls, benches across from them.  Everything was covered in grime, hard water, and mold.  The place reeked of humidity and standing water, like a swamp.  </p><p>               “How did they get held up here?” asked Kenjiro after being sure the coast was likely clear.  “The docks are still used pretty consistently.”</p><p>               “This warehouse has been out of commission for two years,” Akechi replied.  “A major gas pipe ruptured in a renovation accident, releasing toxins into the air.  The cost for repairs after the gas was cleared was higher than the property’s actual worth, and so it was sold back to the city.  It’s only been used as rudimentary storage since, seldom inspected.  The rats held up here when they arrived in Kamurocho, likely using the strong yakuza presence to hide from the triads.”</p><p>               “Lucky bitches,” said Yagami with venom.  “Should’ve just jumped in the river and gotten it done with.”</p><p>               Sae added curtly, “If there weren’t so many yakuza in this damn town, they just might have.”</p><p>               “I pray one day,” said Akechi, “we may not have that problem.”</p><p>               Kaz’s voice came over the radio.  “Still reading me, Nobles?”</p><p>               “It’s a bit fuzzy, but it works,” said Sae.</p><p>               “Good.  Guess you’re underground then.  Take the door at the end of the room on your left, then go up the hall.  It’s not a large facility, so you should find the targets soon.”</p><p>               “Thanks, Noble Actual.”  Sae motioned toward the door, and Tanimura and Kenjiro approached it from the sides, drawing their revolvers.  They opened the door slowly, watching for adversaries, but all that greeted them was the sound of water dripping from the ceiling, reverberating off the walls.  “All clear,” said Tanimura. </p><p>               “Let’s move,” Sae ordered. </p><p>               The hallway in front of them was like something out of a horror movie.  Black stains and mold crawled up the degrading walls like vines, the stench of mold and god knows what else was even greater here, making it hard to breathe.  Sae covered her mouth reflexively as her lungs burned from breathing in the rancid air.  “It’s not toxic,” she remarked, “but it sure as hell is rancid.”</p><p>               “That stench, Noble One,” said Yagami, “is death.”</p><p>               Sae turned around to face her companion, her expression quickly growing more concerned.  “Repeat, Noble Four?”</p><p>               “I work in homicides, remember?  I know that rancid awfulness anywhere.  It’s dead bodies, Leader.  Likely already starting decomposition.”</p><p>               “This is so fucked,” Tanimura muttered.</p><p>               “We’d best make haste then,” Akechi added quickly before jogging down the hall.  Coming upon the corner at the junction, he leaned against the left wall and peered out beyond it.  “There’s another door that way,” said Akechi.  “The stench is coming from that way.  Let’s move – er,” he cut himself off.  “How shall we proceed, Noble One?” he asked Sae, remember his place.</p><p>               “Just as you said,” Sae nodded, seemingly taking no offense to Akechi’s behavior, “we make haste and follow the smell.”</p><p>               Once again, they assumed the position at the door, and Sae opened it with a slow push.  The metal door grinded horribly against the flooring, and the hinges screeched with stress.  Beyond them was another hall with little light, and sure enough, the disgusting odor of decomposition was stronger here.  Sae repressed a cough in her throat as she took the lead. </p><p>               “Noble One,” said Kaz again, “are you still reading me?”</p><p>               “You’re coming through, Noble Actual.”</p><p>               “Good.  You’re coming up on the primary storage area.  If those cretins are really down there, that’s where they’d be.  Eyes up, Nobles.”</p><p>               “Copy.”  Sae drew her gun, holding it at her side.  As the rest of her team followed suit, they proceeded further down the hall.</p><p>               It was becoming harder to breathe as repugnant odor grew stronger.  Sae was forced to cover her mouth to try and breathe in some better air, but to little effect.  Her eyes started to water as they pressed on slowly. </p><p>               She was so focused on trying to breathe that she nearly jumped out of her skin when there was a great metal crash from somewhere far off to their right.  All five officers raised their guns in synchronized reflex as they looked toward the source of the sound.  “<em>Leave us alone!”</em> a woman cried out desperately.  A man shouted aggressive Mandarin back at her, and there was another scream, though this sounded far younger.</p><p>               “What the hell!?” Tanimura shouted.</p><p>               “He said they’re gonna ‘take care of both of them’,” Tanimura translated quickly.  “We gotta move now!”</p><p>               “Move out!” ordered Sae, adrenaline quickly rolling through her body.  The reek of death faded from her senses as they rushed down the dingy hall toward the sound of a growing scuffle.</p><p>               “Leave her alone, you bastards!” a woman screamed frantically.  “<em>SHE’S JUST A BABY!”</em></p><p>               Sae’s ears became hot as the reality of the situation descended upon her.  “This is the police!” she called into the darkness furiously.  “Come out with your hands up <em>NOW!</em>”</p><p>               The same male voice uttered something in Mandarin again; he was far closer now, and getting closer still.  Sae heard a woman whimpering, and a young girl beginning to sob.  Out from behind a corner emerged a shirtless man with vile, disgusting, infected-looking scars on his face and chest.  Most of his nose was cut off, his left eye was white, his torse was covered in improperly treated cuts.  The man stumbled into view like a drunkard, holding a long, rusty knife out in the direction of something behind the wall.  He shouted Mandarin at them in a taunting voice.</p><p>               All members of Noble Team held out their guns in his direction.  “What’s he saying?” Sae asked Tanimura.</p><p>               “He doesn’t speak Japanese, so he’s not sure who we are.”  The man shouted at them again.  “He’s telling us to leave or die… and cussing us out.  And he’s saying we could offer you as a peace offering, Ma’am.”</p><p>               “Tell him that we’re the cops, and he needs to release his captives and come quietly.”</p><p>               Tanimura translated as he was told, and the monstrous man spat something back immediately.  “He’s telling us to fuck off, Ma’am.”</p><p>               Sae pulled back the hammer on the revolver.  “Make sure he knows we are <em>not </em>leaving.”</p><p>               “Please!” cried the woman from out of view.  “Please help us!  I have a child with me!”</p><p>               The Chinese man spat something at them threateningly, and there was more whimpering from behind the wall.</p><p>               “By your orders, Noble One,” Akechi said calmly.</p><p>               “Noble Five, tell him if he does not comply, we <em>will </em>resort to force!”</p><p>               Tanimura did as he was told, making himself sound as threatening as possible.  The Chinese man laughed and started walking backwards out of view.  The terrified cries of the woman and her daughter sounded off through the hall.</p><p>               “Goddammit!” Sae shouted.  “Don’t let him get away!”</p><p>               They rushed down the hall, rounded the corner to find the girls.  The Chinese man was holding both of them by the throats, a thin and bruised young woman and a little girl with long black hair and large, dark eyes, appearing to be about seven years old.  Tears streamed down her face, though she seemed to be trying not to cry, to stay strong amidst the horror.</p><p>               “Let them go, you scum!” Yagami shouted, not caring that the man may not understand him.</p><p>               The man laughed at them again, uttered something vile, then motioned behind him as he shouted something.</p><p>               “What he saying, Four?” asked Akechi.  Sae noticed him starting to breathe heavier, shallower.</p><p>               Tanimura readied his weapon as well.  “He’s threatening to kill the girls if we move, and calling friends.”</p><p>               The man pulled the girls back into the doorway behind him, jerking them back and forth to keep them from escaping.  Noble Team’s attempts to deescalate the situation proved futile as the girls became more frantic and the man became more taunting as he guffawed at the officers’ threats.  The mother pleaded with her unknown heroes to help them, but the man then put his knife to the young girl’s throat.  Her attempts to remain strong were waning, and more tears fell down her cheeks in rivulets.  Sae felt an instinctive fury rise up within her at the barbaric sight; her hands clenched around her revolver tightly.</p><p>               Tanimura tried to threaten the man once more in Mandarin, but he only laughed louder at them as they heard more footsteps rushing down the hall beyond the doorway.  Cheers in Chinese sounded through the metal corridors, and the mother was now crying out with such fervor that her throat was going hoarse. </p><p>               “Five more men are approaching,” said Akechi.  “The time for talk is long past.” </p><p>Akechi’s eyes then locked with the young girl.  His expression softened for a moment, and he nodded at her reassuringly.  The girl looked to him with confusion and shock, but as the knife was pressed harder into her throat, she mustered a weak, tiny nod back at the stranger.  Akechi lowered his revolver by 1.2 inches, imperceptible to the deranged madman, let a few muscles in his wrist relax, and then to all present’s shock, pulled the trigger.</p><p>The bullet flew through the air and directly into the wrist of the Chinese man, leaving a small hole that became a fountain of blood in an instant.  The blood burst out of his arm on contact, staining the young girl’s face before the man dropped the knife to the ground and howled in agony, clutching his wrist with reflexively with his other hand.  Akechi then rushed the man, skipping between the mother and her daughter as they fell to the ground.  He grabbed him by the throat and beat his forehead into the doorframe, though this did not render him unconscious yet.  Noticing this, Akechi pounded his head into the doorframe twice more before turning him around and punching him in the nose at an upward angle.  Searing pain shot through the man’s head as his nose was shattered, the world lost its color around him, and he then fell into darkness.</p><p>Blood poured from his nose as he landed on the ground in a revolting, gory heap.  Akechi shook out the stinging sensation in his hand before spitting on the man’s face.  The officer pushed the man’s body out into the hall, picked up the knife and used it to bar the door handle upon closing it.  He then turned to face the captives and his comrades, who all looked him with shock, though not entirely unthankful. </p><p>“We were out of time, and I acted,” he stated, as if reading their questioning minds.  “Thanks are not needed, especially right now.”</p><p>Akechi immediately went to work inspecting the mother and daughter for wounds, and Noble Team followed a moment later.  Kenjiro took a seat at Akechi’s side as he began inspecting the daughter.  “Not that I’m ungrateful,” he began, “but how did you land a shot like that?”</p><p>“A great deal of training, a bit of instinct and reflex, and a good deal of luck.”</p><p>“You made that shot based on luck?” Sae pressed him.</p><p>“No, I made it based on training.  I just acknowledge that there was some luck involved.”  A man started banging on the door and shouting more Chinese.  “We must move them away from here posthaste,” Akechi said.  “None of us have any desire to remain here longer, and that door will not last.”</p><p>“Noble Team,” Kaz’s voice broke through the uncomfortable whimpering of the girls, “what’s going on?  We’ve heard gunfire over the radio.”</p><p>Sae stood to her feet, holding her finger to the radio in her ear as her gaze remained fixated on the captives.  “We got in an altercation, but no one was killed.  We’ve secured the targets, Noble Actual, and they need immediate medical attention.”</p><p>“Good work, Noble One.  We’re calling for an ambulance right now.”</p><p>“Acknowledged.  We’ll rendezvous at a safe location.”</p><p>“Now get the hell out of there and come back for some coffee, Noble.”</p><p>“Heard,” Sae nodded, the slightest smirk pulling at the edge of her lips.  “See you soon.”  The woman let her hand down back to her side and knelt before the mother, who was clutching her daughter close even while the police were trying to inspect them for injuries.  “Sawamura-san, right?  Are you both okay?” she asked in a deliberately calm voice.  “Have either of you been hurt?”</p><p>The mother looked to her with a pleading gaze, emotional anguish emblazoned in her furrowed brow and reddened eyes.  Sae scrutinized her appearance closely, taking note of the bruises that dotted her body, from her face to her legs.  Her clothing bore multiple holes where more bruises and cuts could be seen, but surprisingly, none appeared grave.  The daughter, however, appeared almost entirely untouched, save for a small cut on her jaw where the knife had been and a bruise on her cheek by her ear, as if from a strong slap.</p><p>“We… we were returning home from dinner,” the mother began quietly.  “They came at us quickly, too quick for me to react.  When I woke up, my daughter and I were in a van being driven… somewhere.  We’ve been in a cell ever since.”</p><p>“They didn’t try to hurt you?”</p><p>“Yes, but only occasionally.  They were always busy with something, and their primary form of torture was just not feeding my child and I.”</p><p>“Thank God,” Sae shook her head.  “It’s going to be okay, I promise.  We’re going to get you and your daughter to a hospital.”</p><p>“How did you find us?” the mother asked.</p><p>Sae looked to Akechi, who was glowering at the door.  The leader then noticed that the banging on the door had ceased, and she strangely felt more worried now that the room had gone suspiciously silent.  “Our team is well informed,” she replied.  “And I’m very thankful for that.  If not, we may not have found you and your daughter,” Sae looked to the young girl, “who is very beautiful, by the way.”  The daughter mustered a weak but sincere smile.</p><p>Tanimura returned his revolver to its holster, standing to his feet.  “Are they okay?  We need to keep moving.”</p><p>Akechi stood up as well, though his gaze remained on the captives.  “They appear to have suffered no serious physical injuries, though they will need a full psychiatric workout.  We will also need to execute further investigation into the compound.  We do not know whether others may yet be held captive.”</p><p>Sae then added, “Then take Noble Three and escort these two out of here.  We’ll continue to investigate—”</p><p>There was a great crash in the hall from whence they came, silencing all present save for the mother who let out a frightened scream.  Many footsteps then clapped along the floor toward them, and all of Noble Team got in front of the mother and daughter with guns drawn. </p><p>“Identify yourselves!” Sae shouted.  “This is the police!”</p><p>“We’re well fuckin’ aware,” said a gravelly male voice in a distinctly non-Japanese accent.  From around the corner, there appeared a tall, lanky, and extremely ugly Chinese man twirling a small, curved knife in his right hand.  Behind him were four more members of the Venom Flower triad of varying builds and ugliness.   “You beat the shit out of one of my top men,” the triad member said, “and you tried to steal our property.  Most of your Japanese yakuza types would give you a chance to walk away, demanding silence in exchange for you getting out of here alive, but that’s not how we do things.”  He locked eyes with Sae, who only glowered more furiously at him.  “We’re on our last legs, kids.  Those two were the make or break for us, and now you’re trying to take that away.  So let me ask you this…” the men behind him raised their own pistols toward the police.  “Do you know how ferociously a starving dog will fight for a good meal?”</p><p>“You want a fight?” Akechi asked.  “We have reinforcements coming any second now.  It’s a small town, after all.  You fire one shot, and you die, plain and simple.”</p><p>“We’re all dead men walking anyway, kid,” the leader taunted him with a smirk.  “Been on the run for too long now, with nowhere left to go.  So, we might as well go out with a bang.”</p><p>The mother and daughter screamed as they and Noble Team all ducked, letting out wild, blind shots from their guns as the triad members shot in their direction.  Two triad members were struck, one in the arm and the other in the chest.  The brief moment of confusion was enough for Akechi to rush them all wildly.  He continued to fire his revolver, though not with the explicit intent of killing anyone, only to cause more noise and panic in everyone around him.  However, he did manage to hit the second injured triad member once again along with the uninjured one to his right.   </p><p>With a powerful, lightning-fast roundhouse kick that Akechi threw the whole of his body weight into, the enemies were scattered or knocked to the ground.  Akechi put so much power into this furious motion that he himself was left kneeling on the ground off balance.  The other three men on his side rushed in to subdue their opponents, with Tanimura tackling the leader first with reckless abandon. </p><p>The triad members were subdued, but only barely.  Sae witnessed her companions dogpile each other in a bloody, shrieking pogrom.  The Nobles beat the triad members into submission, attempting to cuff them amidst the chaos.  Sae held out her hands in front of the mother and daughter, watching intently in case any of the triad men managed to escape the fight.  The mother and daughter cowered behind her, whimpering and panting anxiously. </p><p>Suddenly, the leader of the triad men roared in Akechi’s hold and flung himself forward out of the dogpile toward Sae.  The mother screamed, though the daughter did not.  Noble One crouched down at a striking speed before unleashing a strong sucker punch into the leader’s lower gut, right above his groin.  He spat out a burst of saliva and clutched his chest as the wind was knocked out of him.  Sae was about to unleash another strike into the man’s throat when the door behind them suddenly flew open with such force that it may as well have been an explosion.</p><p>Both the mother and daughter shrieked in terror as the monstrous man they had encountered earlier barreled through the doorway.  Backed up by three other triad men, he grabbed the mother and tossed the daughter to one of the others, cackling and rambling as he did.</p><p>“Goddammit!” shouted Tanimura, raising his revolver once again.</p><p>“Unhand them, scum!” Akechi shouted as he did the same.  The man cackled again, throwing vile insults their way in Mandarin.</p><p>Murakata’s voice suddenly came over the radio, speaking more frantically than Sae had ever heard before.  “Noble Team, what’s going on!?  What’s the situation!?”</p><p><em>“Help uuuuss!” </em>the mother begged as the monstrous man put a gun to her head.  </p><p><em>“Mommy!” </em>shouted the daughter.</p><p>Sae rose to her feet, revolver drawn as she slowly stepped toward the mob.  Her teeth were gritted, her ears rang, her face was hot as vile adrenaline started rushing through her body.  <em>“PUT THE GUN DOWN!”</em></p><p>“Drop them, asshole!” Yagami threatened. </p><p>“Noble Team, what the hell is happening!?” Murakata yelled.</p><p>Akechi took his place beside Sae, breathing sharply as he pulled back the hammer of his revolver.  “Harm a single hair on their head,” he nearly growled, “and <em>every </em>one of you will go to meet your ancestors!”</p><p>The monstrous man laughed again.  His cohorts behind him joined in.  The daughter began to hyperventilate.  The mother tried to fight him off, but he only jerked her around more in his hand.  The monstrous man revealed a hideous grin with his mostly toothless mouth.  “<em>Our… property</em>,” he spoke Japanese slowly.  “<em>Our… house.  Our…” </em>he put the gun to the mother’s head.  Her eyes went wide as her breath caught in her throat.</p><p>
  <em>“…rules.”</em>
</p><p>There was a panicked cacophony of screaming and shouting just before the gunshot rang out.  The mother screeched in terror before the stingingly loud gunshot sounded off, and the wall to her right was splattered in hot blood.</p><p>
  <em>“MOMMY!”</em>
</p><p><em>“NOOOOO!” </em>screamed Sae in unbearable shock and rage.</p><p>“Civilian down!” Kenjiro shouted into the radio.  “We have a civilian down!”</p><p>The triad members picked the daughter up, holding their guns out in front of them.  The monstrous man fired another warning shot in their direction as the panicked shouts of the police continued.  The daughter sobbed disturbingly strongly, flailing in her captor’s arms in an attempt to reunite with her mother, but was slapped across the face.  The tension of the moment reached a horrific apex as the triad members dragged the daughter, screaming and wailing, into the hall behind them, shouting threats at the police as they did.</p><p>Kaz then spoke over the radio in a distressed panic.  “What the fuck is happening, Nobles!?  What’s the situation!?”</p><p>“Let her go!!” Sae shouted, ignoring her distant comrade.</p><p>“Commissioner,” said Akechi, “requesting permission to use lethal force!”</p><p>“What the hell are you doing!?” Yagami shouted at him.  The men dragged the daughter down the hall slowly, ignoring her cries and flails. </p><p>“Commissioner, now!” Akechi cried.</p><p>There was silence on the radio for a moment as the ringing in Sae’s ears continued.</p><p>Murakata then responded.  “It’s your call, Noble One.  Do what you think must be done.”</p><p>Sae weighed her options in her head quickly, though her thoughts were hazy and disorganized.  She could barley think, and now multiple lives were hanging on her next words.  Sae looked to Akechi, who met her gaze with pleading eyes.  She knew in her heart what must be done, and knew that there must be no concession for the safety of a child.</p><p>She glowered toward the triad members with brutal, fiendish fury in her eyes.  “God be with us,” she muttered.  “Save the girl… at any cost.”</p><p>Akechi nodded, turning toward the detestable horde.  “Thank you,” he whispered to her.</p><p>For a moment, Sae wondered why a man as pragmatic and impassionate as Akechi would exhibit such a response.  But following that moment, her companion sprang into action, rushing down the hall as the triad members rounded a corner with no consideration for backup.</p><p>“What’s he thinking!?” exclaimed Kenjiro.  “He’s gonna take them all on his own?”</p><p>“No, because we’re right behind him,” Sae rushed off after him in turn.  She would not let any other innocents fall this day, even if it cost her everything.  “Take care of the woman, Ken and I’ll go after Akechi.”</p><p>“You can’t be serious!” Tanimura objected.</p><p>Already running, Sae shouted back, “Just do it, Noble!”  Tanimura cursed under his breath, and the two gave chase.</p><p>Akechi stood at the end of the hall, back against the corner as he listened intently for the cries of the girl, letting him know she was still alive.  He reloaded his revolver with adept speed, taking into account the four foes that now stood between himself and his goal.</p><p>He breathed out slowly, composing himself.  He muttered, “Worthless scum shall know no quarter when facing the might of the just.”</p><p>With a powerful cry, Akechi whirled around the corner with repeated blasts from his revolver.  His companions noticed his reckless actions, but were shocked all the more by the deftness with which he moved.  He fired in ways unable to be reacted to so quickly, filling the air with lead in an instant though entirely missing the girl.  One of his shots struck true, hitting the thug to the right directly in the forehead, and he collapsed to the ground instantly.  The other two thugs in the service of the monstrous triad member tried to fire at him as they got in front of their leader, but Akechi was far too fast.  The officer shot the first man in the gut, then rolled behind him to evade the gunfire of the second.  He pushed his still living shield into the second thug then pointed his gun at his forehead.  <em>“Be gone,”</em> said Akechi before putting the barrel of the gun to the first thug’s head, and firing.</p><p>The bullet passed right through his skull and embedded itself in the other’s brain as his face was plastered in blood.  They both then fell to the ground in a heap.  Akechi spat on their corpses, saying, “Reap what you sow,” then turned to the monstrous leader. </p><p>The scarred, disfigured beast before him pointed his revolver his way, but Akechi was faster, far more so.  Without hardly looking, Akechi shot the man in the shoulder, causing him to drop his gun with a wail of pain.  Akechi tried to rush him with a kick, but the triad member let go of the daughter for only a moment to pull out his knife and slashed at Akechi’s leg.  The blade connected, cutting Akechi nearly to the bone.  He fell to the ground with a grunt and the man ran off with the girl in fear.</p><p>Breathing heavily, Akechi groaned out, “That it?  That your best?”  With searing pain in his leg and blood soaking through his pants, Akechi trudged off toward the man as fast he could go.  The triad member went to the bathroom at the end of the hall and threw the girl inside before following her in.  “You have no chance!” Akechi shouted after him.</p><p>“Noble Two!” Sae cried out through the halls, trying to catch up to him, but to her great surprise, Akechi then broke out into a sprint.  With a fearsome battle cry, Akechi barreled through the bathroom door, nearly blasting it off its hinges before stumbling to the ground as the pain in his leg became too much for him to ignore.  His vision went blurry as he knelt on the ground, and then the door was creaked behind him.  He looked to the doorway, seeing his companions running after him as the door was closed by the last triad member.  He stuffed an iron pipe under the door to lodge it shut, and turned to Akechi.</p><p>“Little fuck,” he mumbled.  “No take <em>property!”</em></p><p>Sae and Kenjiro banged on the door, but it would not budge an inch.  “Leave it!” Akechi shouted to them.  “I’ll handle this, just get out of here!”</p><p>“Have you lost your mind!?” Sae shouted back.</p><p>“Trust me, Noble One!”  He glowered at his adversary, shakily standing to his feet.  “This fool is mine.”</p><p>The triad member held his knife underhanded, waving it in front of his vicious smile slowly.  Akechi shook his head back and forth, trying to focus his mind on the battle in front of him instead of the searing pain in his leg.  “You hold such strong convictions for death,” he taunted.  “Show me how you fare when faced with the edge of the knife yourself.”</p><p>The triad member raised an eyebrow.  “Weird… cop.”</p><p>“You’re not the first to say that.”  Ignoring the pain in his leg, Akechi lunged toward the man before throwing himself to the side to throw him off.  The triad man tried to slash at him, but only hit air as Akechi nearly faceplanted himself into the floor.  On his recovery, Akechi grabbed the man’s hand that was holding the knife, and with shocking strength, twisted the hand completely around, snapping its wrist in an instant.  The triad man howled in pain before Akechi toppled him to the ground, wrapping his arm around the man’s neck.</p><p>The monstrous triad man struggled against Akechi’s hold, but the young police continued to surprise with how strong he was.  Akechi got on the man’s back and pulled his arm backward against his neck, straining his spine and throat.  As the triad member continued to struggle, Akechi only seemed to get stronger.  The man spat out saliva, trying desperately to get air in his lungs, but Akechi seemed to have him completely subdued.</p><p>“Worthless trash like you,” Akechi muttered, “belong in a ditch, without even a name.”</p><p>“<em>What… are you trying!?”</em> the man belted in between gasps for air.  “<em>You are cop… aren’t you!?”</em></p><p>“What difference does it make to you?”  Akechi pulled back on the man’s throat once again, and something inside snapped.  Blood poured out of the still living man’s mouth as he gargled and gasped in his throat.  Akechi slammed his nose into the ground before pulling back on his neck again.  “Ashes to ashes, scum,” he spat, before wrenching the man’s throat and head to the side with a sickening crack.  The monstrous man’s eyes rolled back in his head, and he exhaled his last as his body went limp.</p><p>Akechi let his body fall to the floor before standing again.  He hissed as the adrenaline that kept his mind off his leg left his body, letting him feel the full searing pain in his thigh.  He quickly inspected the bathroom stalls to his left, and soon heard whimpering behind the farthest one.  He pushed it open slowly, revealing the young daughter sitting in the fetal position in the corner. </p><p>She looked up to the bleeding young man, though in her eyes Akechi saw little fear.  Instead, he saw reluctant, nervous relief.  He let out a short sigh as he saw her to be unharmed.  “Are you alright?” he asked her in a deliberately softer, higher pitch.  She looked away, unresponsive.  Deciding to change the topic quickly, Akechi continued with, “What’s your name?”</p><p>The daughter looked up to him with her large, dark eyes, nearly obscured by her messy, long black hair.  “Haruka,” she whispered.</p><p>“Haruka,” Akechi repeated with a nod.  He knelt down in front of her, trying to keep his expression as neutral and unthreatening as possible.  “Are you ready to get out of here, Haruka?” he asked.  “My friends are waiting for us.”</p><p>Haruka turned away from his slightly.  “Where’s my mommy?”</p><p>Akechi’s heart dropped at that inquiry.  “We will need to discuss that later.  But I do know she’d want you to leave with us.”</p><p>“She’s dead,” said Haruka plainly.  “They killed her.”</p><p>Akechi sat down, feeling at a loss for how best to respond.  The only thing he knew was that they could not linger.  “Close your eyes, Haruka.  I’m going to get you out of here safely.  You want to leave, don’t you?  Maybe get a snack?”</p><p>Haruka looked to him suspiciously before nodding.  “I wanna go.”</p><p>Akechi nodded.  “Me too.”  Gingerly, he picked her up in his arms, feeling her heavy breathing against his chest.  She closed her eyes and held her face against his shoulder, shutting out the world.  Akechi dislodged the pipe from under the doorway and opened it slowly.  Before them was the long hall, with the two bodies of the triad members laying in a heap. </p><p>Haruka whimpered quietly into Akechi’s shoulder as he limped through the pool of blood at his feet.  She did not seem to notice the long trail of blood going up his arm that had been from the monstrous triad leader, and Akechi wondered whether she was simply in shock, or she just did not care.  He did take notice of how she was a surprisingly resilient young girl, exhibiting only limited reaction to the hellish events of the past couple days. </p><p>In some strange sense, he pitied her already being so strong of will.</p><p>Rounding the corner, they came across the rest of Noble Team, standing away from each other awkwardly.  Sae stood in the middle of the entryway still as a statue, her expression blank and her eyes glazed over.  She appeared to be in shock, her eyes lazily traveling between her companions, the cuffed triad members, and the corpse of Yumi Sawamura.  The other men were watching the apprehended triad members, but seemed in no better spirits.</p><p>Sae at last noticed Akechi walking down the hall, with Haruka in hand.  Seeing also that he was injured, she walked up to him to look at his wound, and give him a piece of her mind.  “What the hell happened?” she muttered, speaking not nearly as strongly as she had intended.  The renowned officer simply felt… empty, like her life had been sapped away from her.</p><p>“I saved the girl,” he replied, starting to breathe heavier.  “Took a bad cut on the leg, but I’ll live.  Just needs stitches, is all.”</p><p>“You were reckless at the <em>very</em> least, Noble.”</p><p>“I still saved a child,” Akechi glared at her defiantly.  Before Sae was able to respond, Haruka lifted her head to see the woman in front of her.  The hardened lawyer and officer immediately melted inside upon seeing the traumatized little girl, only barely saved from this hell.</p><p>Tears fell down Haruka’s face anew.  “Mommy…” she muttered in a near whisper.  Neither Sae nor Akechi knew what to say to this beautiful, scarred little girl.  “Mommy…” she whimpered, reaching her hands out to Sae as her strength to hold back the tears failed her.  In an instant, reflexive reaction, Sae took Haruka into her arms and began to rock her back and forth, stroking her hair as the young girl cried quietly into her shoulder.  Whether it was from the stress of the day, the pain of seeing a child in agony, or both, Sae then began to quietly cry herself, whispering anything remotely comforting she could think of into Haruka’s ear.</p><p>Akechi walked past them silently, putting a finger to the radio in his ear.  “Noble Actual, this is Noble Two, come in.”</p><p>“We read you, Noble.  What’s the situation?  Have the targets been secured?”</p><p>“We lost one, sir, but the daughter is secure.  We’re all ready to get out of here.”</p><p>“And Noble One?”</p><p>“With the daughter.”</p><p>“I see.  Evac will be there in five minutes.”</p><p>“Thank you.”</p><p>Murakata then spoke over the radio.  “Noble Two, I’ll need a full briefing when you get back.  I know things didn’t… well, go as planned, but I want you all to know that you are still heroes to all of us.  What you did was… extraordinary.  Same for you, Noble One.”  Sae heard, but did not respond.  “Come back home, everyone.  You deserve a rest.”</p><p>“Thank you, sir,” Akechi whispered.  He turned off the radio and walked over to the apprehended triad members, being watched by his companions.</p><p>“Can’t believe you actually pulled it off,” said Yagami.  “Bastards tried to escape twice since you left.”</p><p>“These cornered rats deserve far worse than what they got,” Akechi sneered down at them.  “Their injuries will be cared for, they’ll be housed in a penitentiary, and will never know the pain they inflicted on others.”  The group’s leader looked up at him, showing off a bloody smile.  Akechi’s eyes widened in fury.  “Your kind does not deserve to share the air I breathe.”</p><p>He stomped on the man’s face, crushing his nose and knocking him unconscious.</p><p>As the men started to argue over the legality and civility of such actions, Sae simply sat with Haruka at the other end of the room, holding the child tightly.  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered to the girl, counting the seconds until their evac arrived.  “I’m so sorry…”</p><p>
  <strong>[This was the hardest chapter so far to write bar none.  I only hope it was worth the wait.  Reviews are always encouraged.]</strong>
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